BACK TO HIGH SCHOOL
by SANDEFUR
Summary: A continuing of Joan's story from my third season project.
1. Chapter 1

BACK TO HIGH SCHOOL

by SANDEFUR

9-4-06/Labor day.

"Grace, can I help you?"

Grace sighs. Always strongly independent, it galls Grace to have to ask for help, but she nods her agreement. Quickly, her sister-in-law Joan moves closer and gives her a hand. Joan smiles reassuringly as she helps Grace, enormously pregnant, to gently come to rest on an air doughnut (hemorrhoids were one of the many side effects of being in her ninth month). Joan places Grace's walker in front of her, and sits next to her on the first row of bleachers. Joan double checks that Grace is comfortable before looking about at her surroundings.

Arcadia High Athletic field—the last time Joan was here was back in June on graduation day. At that ceremony there was a moment of silence in memory of Gavin Price's tragic death, but clearly that wasn't enough of an acknowledgement of a man who died trying to save the life of a student. So, on this day before the start of the school year, hundreds of former and current students, teachers and staff are gathered to pay homage to the late vice principal.

"Quite a turnout, especially considering this is all for Price." Grace comments.

"A lot of people are conditioned never to think ill of the dead, so they are here out of a sense of duty. But Grace, you use to call Price a fascist. I'm kind of surprised you wanted to come today, especially considering how hard it is for you to get around."

Grace shrugs. "The guy died trying to save the life of my sister-in-law. The least I can do is pay my respects."

Joan smiles. "'Sister-in-law'. I still love hearing that."

"Only because it is so new, since Luke and I tied the knot just three weeks ago. Speaking of Luke, he wanted to be here today, considering what Price did…"

"Hey, I get it. Luke had to leave for M.I.T. two weeks back, and he can't be constantly traveling from Massachusetts to Maryland, not even for this."

"It's still hard to believe Glynis went loco, killed Price and then kidnapped you with the intent of killing you. And then she turns the gun on herself? Bizarre."

Joan hesitates. She is stuck with this stupid story dreamed up by Homeland Security. Outside of the government, only she, Dr. John Hunter and Police Chief Will Girardi know the truth about Glynis' involvement with Ryan Hunter's mad scheme to launch his own version of Armageddon.

"For a long time we all knew Glynis was weird, but it wasn't until she came under the influence of Ryan that she went completely over the edge. After all, she shot you and tried to frame Luke for it."

Grace automatically touches the scar on the side of her head, which is mostly covered by her blonde hair. "I guess I ought to hold a grudge, but I'm just too grateful to be awake and to have my baby unharmed."

Before Joan can respond, a shadow falls over the two young women. Joan looks up, recognizes Principal Steven Chadwick and sighs. She was expecting this…

"Miss Girardi, I'm so glad you've arrived. I'm sure everyone will want to hear any tribute you wish to pay to Gavin."

Joan sighs again. "Okay, sure. I'll say a few words."

Chadwick smiles and focuses his attention on Grace. "And Miss Polk, how goes things with you?"

Grace holds up her left hand and points at the gold wedding band. "First off, I'm now Mrs Girardi, and as you can see, I'll be popping out a baby soon. My due date is in one week."

Chadwick nods and points at the walker. "Complications?"

"Not as many as you'd think considering I was shot twice, spent nearly five months in a coma and because of my pregnancy, I've made little progress with my physical therapy."

"Mrs…Grace, I'm sorry for your troubles."

Grace pats her huge mid-section. "On the other hand, my little girl is thriving, and once I deliver, my doctors say I'll start to make rapid progress in my recovery."

"That's wonderful news. I wish you a speedy return to full strength, and I look forward to your return to Arcadia High."

Joan asks, "What's this?"

Grace replies, "I'm three credits away from my diploma, and I'm not going to have my kid thinking I'm a drop out."

Chadwick says, "Grace, since you haven't turned 19 yet, you have the option of returning to regular classes."

Grace shudders at the idea. "No thanks. I'll stick with the adult night classes I signed up for."

Joan mocks in a sing-song voice, "Grace is a senior!"

Grace suppresses a smile. "Oh, go give a speech, Freshman!"

Joan laughs as she and Chadwick walk away. They travel only a short distance before coming across Helen Girardi in conversation with Elaine Lishack and Coach Keating. Chadwick smiles a greeting...

"Helen, how good to see you again. Any chance you're reconsidering returning to teaching?"

Helen shakes her head. "My portrait commission work is still going strong. Besides, in a few short days I'll be busy helping to take care of my first grandchild."

Joan says, "Mom, I have to say a few words, so can you sit with Grace? I worry about her."

Helen briefly looks over to where Grace is sitting. "Sure honey, but don't worry. Grace is healthy and doing better than you think. Ladies, if you'll excuse me...?"

Lishack and Keating say a hasty goodbye as Helen heads toward her new daughter-in-law. Keating addresses Joan...

"Miss Girardi, if you have no plans, this afternoon the girls soccer team will be having their first practice of the season."

Joan follows Keating's indication up the stands and spots several of her old team mates. Let's see, there's Vicky Parker, Ellen Eastwood and...Susan Radovitch--the bitch who tried to blackmail her with her old psychiatric files. Susan and Joan exchange hostile glares until Joan notices Goth Kid God sitting just behind Susan. Oh no, are you kidding me? An assignment involving Susan?

Joan grunts her displeasure as she and Chadwick continue on until they reach the speaker's microphone, where several dignitaries are waiting to give their formal tributes to Gavin Price. One of them is a Methodist minister, no doubt Price's own pastor. The man has a long scar on one side of his face, and Joan recalls that several local ministers were attacked by Ryan's thugs last year.

As the speeches begin with their expected reviews of Price's career and proposed tributes (a plaque in the school's main entrance and a scholarship in his name), Joan watches the crowd. In the front row she spots Price's family--a brother who is strikingly similar to Gavin, and an elderly couple who are no doubt Price's parents.

While everything is proceeding, Joan tries exercising her new ability. It is something that began to develop during her war with Ryan--this power to 'read' people. (It is how she knew Glynis was thoroughly corrupted when the other sub-defectives were willing to forgive her. Joan suspects Ryan also had this ability, and it is why he could so easily manipulate people.) Joan's power is still weak and vague, but it is growing with practice.

However, Joan is always reluctant to try because it seems such a violation of privacy. But with crowds, it wasn't so personal. This crowd, for instance, is bored and feeling guilty about it. This tribute for Gavin Price is so generic and dull, it could be for a total stranger. Many will regret coming, and most will block their feelings for it by tomorrow.

"And now our final speaker whom most of you remember as last year's student council president, and who was with Gavin in those last moments...Joan Girardi."

Reluctantly, Joan approaches the microphone, and as she does, a bible scripture pops into her head...'You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free'. Joan looks up into the crowd and spots Goth Kid God, who gives her a quick wink. Yeah, okay, thanks for the hint.

"Gavin Price use to scare the hell out of me."

(A few people chuckle, and numerous students--past and present--nod their heads.)

"I often thought to myself, and even said to Mr. Price a couple of times: 'Why do you have to be so mean'? I even once asked if he were the devil."

(Again, a few people are pretending to be shocked, but most are silently agreeing.)

"At the time I didn't understand why. I, like a lot of students, just assumed it was his nature. We all thought Price was a mean and scary guy who just enjoyed making our lives miserable."

(Some of the crowd are growing uncomfortable, thinking this was going too far.)

"As the daughter of a cop, I should have known better. It's never easy being the one who has to enforce the rules. It's a tough job that isolates you and makes you unpopular. But someone has to do it, and Price did it well. His diligence and his tactics were what made Arcadia the safest high school in this city. Few of us fully appreciated how much better that made our lives."

(The mood of the crowd begins to shift. Many are remembering the times when Price broke up fights, challenged bullies and unflinchingly faced down very wild and scary thugs.)

"What I never understood about Mr. Price until that last moment is, the why. It was all done out of love. Gavin Price loved being an educator, he loved this school and most of all, he loved the students in his care. Oh, it was a tough love, but it was real. When a man has trouble verbalizing his love, he often expresses it through his actions. That was Mr. Price. In the last moment of his life he sacrificed himself trying to save the life of a student. It was me, but honestly, he would have done the same for any one of you. For greater love has no man than he would give his life for another..."

(Many in the crowd are now crying, while others hang their heads as the re-evaluate the man they thought they knew.)

Joan looks skyward. "Father, we thank you for the privledge of having known this good man, and our love goes out to him as we trust that he is now in your arms."

Tears are flowing freely as many in the crowd respond, "Amen." Hugs are exchanged and others express their heartfelt condolences to the Price family, who are relieved. They weren't really here for formal tributes or phony rituals. They wanted to know that Gavin mattered to the people around him. Now they did, and somehow that made their loss a little easier.

A few people thank Joan with handshakes and hugs, and even Grace sends her a 'thumbs-up', but Joan is distracted. In the back of her mind she hears Ryan Hunter's voice saying: "Excellent, Joan. See how easy it is to manipulate the rabble?" Joan does her best to shake this from her head for she needs her wits about her. The last woman to approach her is not a well-wisher. It is Glynis' mother, Lillian Figliola, and her eyes are burning pools of hate...

"You filthy whore, how dare you continue this lie about my Glynis?"

"Mrs Figliola, I'm sorry for your loss..."

"Bitch! Do you think I haven't figured it all out? You were the one who killed Price and blamed my little girl. It was all part of your plan."

"Plan?"

"To ruin Glynis so you could get Adam back."

"Ma'am, it was Ryan Hunter who..."

"Lies, lies, lies! You faked those photos of Glynis and Mr. Hunter so you could trick Adam, her friends and the whole town. Poor, poor Glynis, crying her eyes out for weeks because everyone had turned on her. No one would give her a second chance, not with the word of the town 'hero' against her!"

Tears flow down Mrs Figliola's cheeks as her body trembles with emotion. Surprisingly, no one seems to notice the tense exchange of words.

"Mrs Figliola, I truly am sorry I was so harsh with Glynis, but that had nothing to do with Adam."

"No? I've been watching you Joan. All summer long I witnessed your seduction of Adam."

"Seduction? No, we haven't...that is, we have only been rediscovering our romantic feelings for each other."

"Which never would have happened with Glynis still in the picture. You knew Adam loved her, and you were terrified he would take her back. That's why Glynis had to die. That last day, it was You who took her prisoner. It was You who faked her suicide on Mt. Nashman. But I know the truth, you killed her!"

"The police report..."

"Is sealed! Do you think I'm stupid? Why would an ordinary suicide be sealed by Homeland Security? Did your father arrange that using his police connections? I've tried...I've tried so many times to get someone in authority to listen to me, but they won't. Your lie stands as the truth, but we know the real story. You murdered Glynis!"

Suddenly there is a long, sharp knife in the hand of Lillian Figliola...

TBC. PLEASE REVIEW.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Dr. John Hunter looks over the dispersing crowd from his position at the top of the bleachers. His attendance at this tribute was an impromptu decision, and he kept in the background as he wanted to surprise his friends after the memorial. It was a surprisingly moving event—at least once Joan began speaking. He barely knew Gavin Price, and certainly didn't like him, but he felt himself getting misty-eyed along with everyone else.

An amazing example of crowd manipulation…just like Ryan. Dr. Hunter pauses at this thought. Last year he saw how easily his brother could sway people using a few well chosen words, vocal inflection and body language. People often found themselves changing their minds under Ryan's influence, and the opposite sex seemed especially vulnerable to Ryan's persuasion. Now Joan is showing signs of having the same ability, but to a lesser degree.

Dr. Hunter starts down the bleachers, carefully keeping an eye on Joan so he doesn't lose track of her in this crowd. He notices a thin blonde woman with Joan exchanging what seems to be heated words. The middle-aged woman is literally shaking from her extreme emotions. Suddenly, she pulls a knife from her purse…

Without hesitation, Dr. Hunter launches himself down the bleachers, taking them three at a time. This is a hazardous and strenuous action for a man of 43, but being a lifelong athlete, he handles it easily. Reaching the grassy field, John Hunter pours on the speed, but he knows he is too late. The woman with the knife is inches from Joan. He will never make it in time…

At that moment, Joan glances over at Dr. Hunter, winks and makes a subtle hand gesture for him to stop. To his own surprise, Dr. Hunter stops. Intellect tells him to continue, but instinct tells him to follow Joan's lead. Had he misjudged the situation? To his amazement, as Joan speaks in low steady tones to the blonde woman, she calms down. Tears flow from the woman's eyes and the knife slips from her hand. Joan embraces the woman, giving her a warm, supportive hug.

Everywhere, people are alerted to the situation by Dr. Hunter's mad dash 'to the rescue'. At least a dozen cell phones have recorded the incident, and a couple of security guards rush toward the scene. Joan holds up an authoritative hand, and the two guards slow their pace. They approach with curiosity rather than hostility.

"This woman needs help. She's had…a temporary break down. Call an ambulance and treat her nice!"

The guards obediently nod their agreement as one of them recovers the knife and slips it into his belt. "The police will want a statement."

"I'll be around."

The two guards gently lead Mrs Figliola away. Joan turns toward Dr. Hunter, squeals with delight and jumps into his arms. John catches her and observes the goofy smile she gives him. The little minx, she is trying to distract him from his concerns. He knew it, and she knew he knew it but still it works.

"Dr. H., it's so good to see you again! What brought you back to town? Are you here alone? Say, I love your new haircut and that snazzy tie. What happened to your conservative, solid color look? Hey, tell me you missed me!"

Dr. Hunter laughs and surprises Joan with his response… "Joan, have you put on weight?"

Joan looks offended and playfully smacks Dr. Hunter's shoulder. "That's the first thing you have to say to me? I'll have you know I'm down one jeans size since you last saw me."

"That's what I meant. You look trimmer but more solid. Muscle mass weighs more than flab."

"What a smooth talker you are, and yes, I have been working out—a lot. Why, am I too much for you to handle?"

"Hardly, but maybe you should get down now? I'm much too old and dignified for this sort of behavior."

Joan laughs and slides to the ground. Before she can say or do anything else, Helen rushes up and desperately hugs her daughter…

"Joan! Oh-my-God, I was so scared! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine Mom. I was never in any danger."

"But the knife?"

"Mrs Figliola wasn't here to kill me. She was going to kill herself in front of me."

Dr. Hunter asks, "But why?"

"Not surprisingly, the woman can't accept how low her daughter sank before her death. Plus, she had some wild idea that there's some government cover-up of the truth."

(Dr. Hunter and Joan silently exchange a significant glance. Joan hates keeping this secret, especially from her own mother, but the boys from Homeland Security were a scary bunch who meant it when they said: 'Tell no one'. Joan continues…)

"Mrs Figliola had a letter addressed to the media in her purse detailing her suspicions. After such a public suicide, it would have raised a lot of unpleasant attention."

Dr. Hunter says, "But the letter will be found when Mrs Figliola reaches the hospital."

"No, I lifted it out of her purse when we hugged. I've been taking pickpocketing lessons from my old friend, Artie the Dip. You never know what unusual skill will come in handy when you work for God."

Helen asks, "But Joan, how did you calm down Lillian enough to be able to hug her?"

"I told a few comforting lies. I said that last day Glynis was confused and unsure of what she wanted to do. That when Price moved against her, the gun went off accidentally because of Glynis' unfamiliarity with firearms."

"She bought that?"

"It's what she wanted to hear. That Glynis still had good in her, and that she was only temporarily off the straight and narrow path. I said that when Glynis took me to Mt. Nashman, she was scared and desperate. That I had no idea what she was planning. That once we were there, Glynis became so overwhelmed with grief over Price, she couldn't go on. That's why she ended her life. I ended by reminding Mrs Figliola that there was still someone that loved her very much."

"Carl Rove?" Helen asks.

"Mr. Rove has been mourning the loss of their relationship for months. Maybe, now that Mrs Figliola will be getting the help she needs, Mr. Rove can be persuaded to visit her."

Dr. Hunter begins, "Speaking of persuasion..."

"Hold that thought for later. I still have business to attend to. Mom, you might want to help Grace. She looks like she is going to try standing on her own, and I'm sure she's more tired than she's letting on."

Helen, always the complete mother, quickly hurries away to help her daughter-in-law. Dr. Hunter tries again...

"Joan..."

"Doc, I know you've got tons of questions, but I've got a chewing out coming from you-know-who. I'm sure Mom will invite you to lunch, so we can catch up then. Okay?"

Dr. Hunter nods his agreement, and Joan reluctantly begins climbing the bleachers for her meeting with a displeased looking Goth Kid God...

TBC. Please review.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Goth Kid God sternly nods as Joan reaches him at the top of the bleachers. On the way up she was intensely aware that she is the center of everyone's attention. Whispers and pointing fingers follow her all the way. Joan looks about from the height of the top bleacher and sees Mrs Figliola being loaded into an ambulance while one of the security guards points Joan out to a pair of just arrived cops. In the distance, Joan spots a rapidly approaching news van.

Joan groans, "This is going to be bad, isn't it?"

Goth Kid God replies, "Most of the news stories will be along the line of: 'Local Hero Does It Again'."

"Sorry. I know every time something like this happens, it makes it harder for me to operate as your chosen instrument."

"You might want to consult with John Hunter. He has over twenty five years of practice in operating for me while keeping out of the public eye. He is especially adept at alibis."

"That makes him sound like a skilled liar. I thought you were all about honesty?"

"Well, it it's honesty you want…"

"Uh-oh."

"This incident could have been handled discreetly if you had followed your instructions."

"I know, I know. I'm suppose to be practicing all the time."

"I advanced your spiritual abilities in response to your entering the 'big leagues'. If you had been attuned to those around you, Lillian Figliola's intense emotional duress would have been like a beacon to you, even in a crowd as large as this. The matter could have been settled quietly off to the side. That would have been better for both you and her. Am I getting through to you, Joan?"

Joan lets her head hang down as she stares at her feet. "Yeah, I get it. I've been resisting this...'gift' because it creeps me out. I hate intruding into people's lives this way, even when I know it can be for their own good. I just need to find a way to balance this constant 'Peeping Joan' routine with my need to respect people's privacy."

"Which is why you need to keep practicing. You will eventually learn to take a 'quick peek' into the souls of individuals and tell if they are persons of interest, or an easy pass. Now, are you ready for your next assignment?"

"Susan Radovitch? You know the bitter history between us, not to mention the harsh feelings I have toward her father. Is this assignment some sort of punishment to remind me to toe the line?"

"Joan, you know I don't punish people, although I do sometimes discipline my operatives for their own sakes."

"So, I'm suppose to learn some harsh life lesson from this assignment?"

"There are valuable learning experiences in every assignment. How harsh they seem depends on one's perspective. Susan needs help in dealing with the truth. Her 'perspective' needs adjusting. And now Joan, your adoring public awaits you…"

Joan turns and sees down below a TV news crew setting up their equipment while a uniformed cop waves her down from the bleachers. Joan nods and turns back to say goodbye, but Goth Kid God is simply gone. Joan wonders if that was caught on camera, or was she the only one who could see him this day? She misses the traditional backhand wave, and hopes this doesn't mean God is more annoyed than he is letting on…

X X X X X

An hour later Joan and Dr. Hunter are at the Girardi kitchen table enjoying Monte Cristo sandwiches and homemade cole slaw. Helen enters from the backstairs carrying a tray.

"Mom, how is Grace doing?"

"I got her into bed and tried to get her to eat, but after a few bites, she fell asleep. The poor girl was exhausted."

"I knew Grace was pushing herself too hard, and apparently she doesn't plan to let up. Did you know she was planning to go back to high school?"

"Yes Joan, we discussed it. Grace will be studying at home until she recovers from the delivery."

"Grace talked this over with you and not me, her best friend?"

Dr. Hunter remarks, "Perhaps Grace felt the need to bond in a mother-to-mother relationship?"

Joan retorts, "She has her own mother."

"And yet Grace is living here, and has even taken the Girardi name. I must admit that surprises me. I would have thought someone as independent as Grace would have kept the name Polk, or at least gone with Polk-Girardi."

"After Grace left the nursing home, she was in a wheelchair. Our house is set up for that. Grace moved into Kevin's old room, and after they were married, Luke joined her. As for the name change, I think Grace did that to please Luke." Helen says.

Joan adds, "And before they were married, Rabbi Polonsky insisted Mom and Dad keep a close watch on our happy couple to ensure there was no pre-marital hanky panky. Overlooking the fact that Grace was already pregnant, and that Luke would never try to, ya know, with Grace being so weak."

Dr. Hunter asks, "And how has Grace adjusted to all of this, psychologically?" (Helen and Joan noticeably hesitate. Dr. Hunter continues,) "She has been getting counseling, hasn't she?"

Helen replies, "I'm not sure. Grace goes to a clinic for regular physical therapy, and they have counseling services... I just assumed that she was getting help, and we really have been focused on her physical recovery."

"My impression was that Grace rejected any sort of counseling. Her will is as strong as ever, and I just assumed she was doing okay." Joan says with a feeling of guilt. Here was another example of her need to keep practicing.

Dr. Hunter nods but looks doubtful. "Perhaps while I am in Arcadia, I'll offer Grace a chance to talk over her feelings with her old therapist."

Joan remarks, "Speaking of your visit to Arcadia, what exactly brings you back, Doc? I didn't think anything could drag you back to this town."

"I had an obligation to fulfill. Last spring when I asked to be released early from my contract, there was a proviso attached. I agreed to return and help my successor with the transition into his new position as District Psychiatrist."

"Well, it's good to have you back John, even if it is for only a short visit. So...how is Kevin doing?" Helen asks.

"I'm certain you speak with him on a regular basis."

"Sure, but that's not the same as a eyewitness account."

"I can only report good things. Kevin's physical recovery continues. He has abandoned the use of the leg braces, and expects to switch from crutches to only a cane within a few months. As for his career, Kevin is genuinely ecstatic about becoming a staff writer for the TV show, 'Improper'. Certainly Barbara is happy to be both working with and, um, living with Kevin."

Helen frowns. With frost in her voice she asks, "Yes, how is Barbara?"

"Thriving. I have to admit Kevin has been good for my step-daughter. I've never seen her happier... Helen, are you still angry with her?"

Helen blushes but replies calmly, "John, I don't want to offend you, but I find it hard to put aside what Barbara did. She seduced Kevin while he was engaged to Lily, who is a dear friend of mine. That was just wrong."

"The way Kevin and Barbara tell it, their attraction was mutual during their brief fling. I agree Barbara should have been more circumspect around an engaged man, but as the old saying goes: 'The heart wants what the heart wants'."

Joan looks at Dr. Hunter with surprise. This was an unusually laid back attitude for a man of his conservative religious beliefs. For a moment Joan considers taking a 'read' on John Hunter's soul, but rejects the idea. Frequent practice was one thing, but Dr. H. is a good friend who has saved her life twice, and is an experienced servant of God. There are boundaries Joan can't bring herself to cross...

"Mom, you need to let this go. Remember, Lily found someone else too and is now married. Life moves on. For instance, is Dylan doing okay?"

Dr. Hunter smiles, remembering the intense romance between his son and Joan. "He's doing well in college, but perhaps that's not what you meant?"

"Well...just as a friend, I was curious if he was seeing anyone?"

"There is a girl Dylan spends a lot of time with, but only as a friend. As for dating, he's actually been doing a lot of that. Over the last few months he must have gone out with...20? Yes, that sounds about right--twenty different girls. Although, he only dates them one or two times before he moves on."

"Wow, so many is such a short time? Is he becoming some sort of...'swinger'?" Joan asks, using a word she thought appropriate for a man of Dr. Hunter's generation.

"No, nothing like that. Dylan hasn't lost his moral compass. All of this dating just seems to be casual fun. It occupies a lot of his time, but I haven't objected since it hasn't affected his grades."

Joan nods, feeling oddly relieved. She and Dylan had agreed to remain friends, but still... No, she is unable to complete that thought. Instead, she checks her watch... "Oh hey, look at the time. I have to get back to Arcadia High."

Helen asks, "An assignment?"

"Yeah, I have to help a girl I don't like with some problem she has. Do you remember Susan Radovitch?"

"Yes, and not fondly."

"My feelings too, but duty calls. I gotta jet. Bye Mom. Bye Dr. H."

As Joan turns to leave the kitchen she hears Dr. Hunter murmur, "That's an odd co-incidence."

Joan pauses. "Co-incidence?"

"Yes, the man the school board hired to replace me is a local psychiatrist named Radovitch."

"Oh-my-God, Dr. Dan?"

"Yes, his name is Daniel Radovitch. Why, do you know him?"

Joan nods her head and groans.

TBC. Please review.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Soccer practice is already in progress when Joan returns to Arcadia High. She has taken the time to change into sports appropriate apparel. As she watches the girls warming up, Coach Keating notices and walks over to greet Joan…

"Miss Girardi, glad to have you with us. What do you think of this year's team?"

"Over half are girls I played along side back in the spring. They should give the St. Mary Wildcats a run for their money."

"We will certainly try. It's a shame you aren't on our team, Joan. You were one of the most naturally gifted goalies I've seen in 20 years of coaching."

"I was second string."

"Only at the beginning. After you had gained some more experience, I was going to move you up to the top spot. But you were injured in the explosion of the Herald building."

"Yeah, I guess I missed out on a really good life experience because of that."

"Aren't you playing in college?"

Joan shakes her head. "No time. I'm taking an extra heavy course load because I'm determined to graduate in only three years. I've only been in college a couple of weeks, but I'm already swamped with classes, studying and…other obligations."

"And yet, you look very fit."

"You inspired me, Coach. After you whipped me into shape, I found I liked being fit. All this summer I've been working out."

"Glad to here it. Care to try out that fitness with some shot practice drills?"

"Isn't that against the rules since I'm no longer a student here?"

"Yes, but so is practice on a holiday, but here we are. Besides, an exception can always be made for the town hero." Keating says with a grin.

Joan chuckles and joins her old team on the field… Susan Radovitch is in the goalie position as several girls try their luck at making goals. Joan watches and assesses her old enemy's ability. There was definite improvement over last spring's performance, but still, at least half of the balls are making it into the net. Joan thinks: you've got power but no speed. Your skill level is, and probably always will be, mediocre.

Joan decides it is time to start practicing her ability by taking a read on Susan. For Joan this isn't a matter of 'switching on' anything, because her ability is always there. Rather, it is a matter of not getting in the way. Stop resisting and let the info flow to you… At first a flood of emotions and individual spiritual energy from everyone around her buffets Joan, but by focusing on Susan, the storm calms. Now Joan is just receiving from her…

Okay, the first impression is from her sexuality. 'Well, big whoop—I don't need divine insight for that. Susan is as butch as a lumberjack, and isn't trying to fool anyone about which choir she sings in'. Next came fear. That's as common as dirt since everone carries around some level of fear, although Susan's level was a little high. Pain puts in an appearance (emotional, not physical), but again, that's to be expected. And of course there is a lot of anger present. Anyone who knew Susan was aware of her anger issues. Anything else? Yes, something subtle but definitely there…a tinge of demonic energy.

X X X X X

At the Girardi home Helen and John Hunter are on the patio enjoying the warm afternoon, and sipping iced tea...

"John, you haven't mentioned how you've been since you left Arcadia."

"Busy. I had to re-establish my practice, move into the new house, renew old acquaintences and...then there's Felicity."

"A love interest? Let me guess, you met her at church."

"No, she was the real estate agent who handled the transaction on the new house. I nearly buckled at the knees when I first met her."

Helen chuckles. "So, she's a hottie?"

"Definitely, but don't think I'm only drawn by her incredible beauty. Felicity is smart, kind and a wonderfully fun, outgoing person."

"So why do I hear concern in your voice?"

"Religion. It's the one area where we just don't click. I persuaded Felicity to attend my home church, but she left halfway through the service. She said it was...weird."

"John, I once visited a church like yours, and 'weird' is not an unusual reaction. All of that endless praising, speaking in tongues, prophecies and laying hands on the sick is a bit much for the average person off the street."

Dr. Hunter sighs. "I suppose you're right. Having grown up in such a church, I sometimes forget how the full gospel experience can startle people. Anyway, ever since then we have attended Felicity's church--which I wouldn't describe as a church at all. They're nice people, but spiritually clueless. They preach the philosophy of political correctness and barely acknowledge the existence of the bible."

"Then you must really love Felicity to put up with that."

"I suppose I do, but I never expected to fall for such a worldly woman. Perhaps my mind set made me more receptive to the possibility."

"Meaning?"

"My stay in Arcadia made me realize it was time to move on with my life. My kids are pretty much grown, and I've been a widower for six years. I realized I needed to seek a new wife."

"Would that realization have anything to do with the crush you had on me?"

Dr. Hunter blushes deeply. "You were aware...?"

Helen smiles. "A woman usually knows."

"Helen..."

"John, don't you dare apologize. I was flattered. A woman my age rarelyattracts the attention of such a handsome man, and I knew you would always remain a gentleman."

"I want you to know I never...lusted after you. I just became acutely aware that you were the type of wonderful woman I needed in my life."

"Thank you. Now, let's not speak any more of this or we will get silly and embarassed."

They fall into a companionable silence for a few minutes. Dr. Hunter resumes...

"Have any good dreams lately?"

"Oh, God manages to slip me an assignment now and then. Nothing as dramatic as last year, but I'm always glad to be of use. What about you? I suppose God is keeping you as busy as usual?"

John Hunter hesitates as he becomes misty-eyed. "Actually...no. My dreams have stopped."

X X X X X

Back at Arcadia High, soccer practice has ended, and the girls quickly scatter to catch up with the rest of their holiday plans. Joan waits patiently by a blue and yellow gym bag with the initials S.R. Susan, the last player in, reluctantly approaches Joan.

"Here to rub it in?" Susan snaps.

"What do you mean?"

"It's bad enough you showed me up last spring, but now you don't even go to this school and you're still doing it!"

"Susan, I'm not here to embarass you. I wanted to reconnect with some old friends, and maybe have a chance to...bury the hatchet? And please don't use that old cliche: 'Yeah, right in your head'."

"Your guts would do. So you weren't here to show how you are ten times better than me as goalie?"

"No, and I'm hardly ten times better. But if you want, I could give you a few pointers."

At first an offended look crosses Susan's face, but that is quickly replaced with a mean smile... "Sure. Let's try a few practice shots."

As they head for the goal, Joan sighs. Susan is so predictable, Joan doesn't need the confirming witness within her to know what the girl is planning. Joan takes position in front of the goal, and instantly, Susan savagely kicks the ball. It flies straight for Joan's head, but she easily catches it. With a shrug, Joan rolls the ball back to Susan. Furious, Susan kicks with all of her strength. Again the ball comes at Joan's head like a bullet, and again Joan catches it wih ridiculous ease.

"Maybe if you aimed for the net instead of me?"

Still angry, Susan settles for trying to score a goal against Joan. A dozen tries go by, but Joan successfully defends the net each time. Susan pauses to catch her breath, and stares at Joan with declining anger and growing curiosity...

"How do you do that?"

"It's all about anticipation. You have to look for the visual clues that tell you what your opponent is going to do. The eyes are the best place to start, followed by the head and then the shoulders."

"You don't watch her feet?"

"Nah, by then it's too late. Watch the eyes. In time you will know what the other player is going to do just before she does."

"Show me."

The pair switch places and Joan begins with a few easy shots at the goal. She offers suggestions for correcting Susan's methods while gradually increasing the difficulty of play. To Susan's surprise, she begins to noticeably improve, and as a result, her resentment of Joan begins to fade. After an hour of this, both girls are tired and sweaty. They decide to rest on the team bench, and Susan gives Joan a hand towel and a bottle of water. They sit side by side on the deserted athletic field, enjoying their rest.

Awkwardly, Susan clears her throat and says, "I guess I owe you an apology."

"Ya think?"

"Hey, go easy on me. I'm definitely not an apology making kind of person. But I am sorry, especially since all of that embarassing stuff from your psychiatric file became known anyway. You know, the talking to God thing."

"A brief period of hallucination from when I had Lyme disease." Joan says while being grateful that was all her of her file that was made public.

"Yeah, I know. The whole town knows, but that didn't keep everyone from calling you a hero. And, I guess you are. Also...I wanted to say thank you."

(Joan looks at Susan in surprise. Sitting this close, she can clearly see the slight demonic energy lingering around Susan. The girl isn't posessed, which is a rare thing, and she isn't demon influenced, which is quite common. No, these traces of evil energy come from being around someone deeply connected to a demon.)

"Uh, why are you thanking me?"

"For stopping me. The first time I blackmailed someone using a psychiatric file from my Dad's records, it was self-defense. A bully was making my life hell, and just a little blackmail saved me. The next time was to help a friend who was being harassed by a real creep. Technically, I knew what I was doing was wrong, but some how, it seemed...okay."

"The end justified the means?"

"Yeah, I guess...at least at first. As time went by, I began to enjoy the power I had. Soon it took less and less provocation for me to use it. When I tried to blackmail you for simply beating me out for my spot in the spring fun league, that was the lowest I had ever sunk. I was too mad at that time to realize it, but when you got away from me the key to my Dad's storage locker, it was the best thing that could have happened to me. Without that access, I began to deal with life's problems in a normal way. I soon saw what a lousy person I had become by relying on that power over people."

"You didn't make all the right life choices, but who the hell does?"

"By the way, what did you ever do with that key?"

Joan lies, "I...immediately tossed it in the river."

"I'm glad. In the wrong hands..." Susan trembles as memories come flooding back.

Joan puts her hand on Susan's. "Part of burying the hatchet is letting go of the past."

"And embracing the future? Hopefully my last year of high school will be better than the last three. And if all goes well, then comes college. So, tell me, is it as wild as I hear?"

"It can be. Again, it's a matter of life choices. It has only been a couple of weeks for me, and already I've seen plenty of dubious decisions. Most of the freshman class at Arcadia College are from out of town, and on their own for the first time. That level of sudden freedom overwhelms some people."

Susan grins. "Wild parties every night?"

"If that's what you're into."

"Including...experimentation? I hear some of the co-eds are willing to try a once in a lifetime...?"

Susan blushes as she shyly awaits Joan's response. Joan has been aware all along of Susan's attraction to her. Their hands are still touching, and Susan gently squeezes Joan's...

Joan gulps, "Yeah...once in a lifetime."

Slowly, watching closely for Joan's reaction, Susan leans in for a kiss...

X X X X X

Once more back to the Girardi home where Helen and John have moved into the living room. There is an awkward silence between them as they have exhausted the topic of John's loss of his charism. It began slowly last June, and because he was so busy at the time, he didn't notice at first. As the summer progressed, his God-given dreams occurred less and less often. Last month, they stopped completely. Helen struggles not to push too hard for John Hunter is a dear friend, but she can't help feeling that he is holding something back.

Dr. Hunter's guilt over not sharing all is uncomfortable, but the truth would be far more uncomfortable to reveal. He is convinced that the nature of his relationship with Felicity Brewster is the cause. From the first moment he met her, John desired Felicity more than he had any other woman--including his late wife, Sylvia. The only thing that keeps him from feeling too guilty about this is the deep feelings that accompanies their sexual relationship. BUT, all of his life Dr. hunter has believed and followed the strict biblical standard of sexual behavior. Although he knows premarital sex doesn't automatically exclude someone from serving God, by violating the standard he uses to honor his Lord, he feels sure this is why...

Desperate to change the subject, Dr. Hunter asks, "Tell me what's up with Joan, and don't say you don't know what I mean."

Helen nods a little sadly. "She's changed. Ever since her war with Ryan, Joan has gotten stronger but more challenged in life. I don't know all of the details, but apparently God has her facing down demons."

"Demons? That's high level work. Is Joan ready for that?"

"I have to assume she is, or God wouldn't be giving her these assignments. She did train all summer to advance to this level."

"Trained how?"

"Joan had a personal tutor...her very own angel."

"An angel? What does he look like?"

"I don't know. I can't see him. When I asked Joan to describe him, she shuddered and said: 'It's better you don't know'. So, I'm thinking it's not someone who looks like Roma Downey or Michael Landon."

Dr. Hunter nods as he remembers the two angel based TV shows, 'Touched by an Angel' and 'Highway to Heaven'. "Some of the angels in the bible are described as huge warriors with multiple wings that have eyes on the inside of them."

Helen groans. "I worry constantly about Joan. God expects so much from her, and I don't know how she will ever manage to have a normal life. How can she find someone to love when there are so many strange demands on her?"

"In your last letter you said Joan and Adam Rove were romantically linked again?"

"Yes, all summer they slowly rebuilt the trust that was broken between them. Joan was at the point where she was ready to..." (Helen hesitates, blushing.) "...to consumate their love. Joan was planning to visit Adam for his first weekend at State."

"Something went wrong?"

"Remember when Adam lost his scholarship money and he was no longer able to go to Berekley like he wanted?"

"Yes, Ryan framed him for theft, and that cause the withdrawal of his scholarship offers. By the time the matter was cleared up, it was too late for Adam to get most of the scholarships back. That's why Adam was going to State."

"Well, Berekley was aware of Adam's unfair circumstances. When another student, who had a full ride to the university, had to go into rehab, they offered the full package to Adam. But, the offer came the Friday before the start of classes. Adam had to be there Monday morning, or they were going to give the money to someone else. I'm not sure why, but in the mad scramble to move across country at the last moment, Adam forgot to tell Joan what was happening. She found out from Mr. Rove after Adam had already left town."

"That...must have been painful for Joan, but surely she understood the unusual circumstances?"

"In her head maybe, but in her heart, she felt betrayed again. When Adam called the next Monday afternoon with the good news that the scholarship package was offically his, Joan was madder than I have ever seen her. Basically, she tore Adam a new one. Adam lost his temper and began yelling back at Joan. She finally ended their conversation by telling Adam that since she was such an after thought in his life, then they should date other people during the school year."

"Oh no..."

"Oh yes. In effect, Joan gave her boyfriend permission to cheat on her. She's been beating herself up about that ever since, but she has too much stubborn pride to call it off. But...I've been wondering if God didn't have a hand in this."

"What do you mean?"

"The first two weeks of college, Joan had three different assignments involving young men she doesn't know. She quickly realized that the easiest way to connect to those guy's lives was to pretend an interest in them. She would date them once or twice until she found out what the indvidual problem of each guy was. Once that was solved, she would move on to the next guy. Joan was only able to do this because of her fight with Adam freed her to date others. Did God engineer the break up between Adam and Joan?"

"No. God isn't a puppet master, and we are not on his string. God grants us free will, and only uses his servants to help humanity. He no doubt saw this break-up coming, but he didn't cause it. The fact that Joan can use this time away from Adam for God's purposes is just serendipity. I hope Joan realizes that, because if she is coming up against demons, her faith in God must be absolute."

"Then I won't mention my doubts to her."

"Good. Oh, look at the time. I really must be going. It's a shame I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Grace."

Helen looks at her watch and frowns. "She has been sleeping an unusually long time. Why don't you come upstairs with me while I check on her? I'm sure Grace would like the chance for even a brief talk."

Dr. Hunter nods his agreement and follows Helen up to Kevin's old room. While he waits in the hall, Helen gently knocks and enters the darkened bedroom...

"Grace...?"

A few moments later, Helen reappears looking scared. "John, something is wrong. Grace won't wake up!"

TBC. Please review.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

It was a nice kiss. A very nice kiss, which surprises and pleases Joan because being with a good kisser was always important to her. But something was missing. Usually after such a good kiss, Joan has to struggle against the overwhelming hormonal rush that surges through her hot Girardi veins. No rush.

"Joan Girardi!" shouts an outraged voice. Joan sighs. She knows this voice only too well.

"Dad?" Susan gasps and jumps back from Joan's touch.

Joan turns and sees a chubby, 50-ish, balding man who is utterly livid. Dr. Daniel Radovitch strides toward them, red-faced and muttering under his breath.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Susan jumps to her feet and rushes to hug her father. "Dad, I'm so sorry you saw that. She caught me off guard when she suddenly kissed me!"

Joan's mouth hangs open in outrage despite the fact she suspected something like this was going to happen. The major fear in Susan's life is that she will damage her relationship with the father she hero-worships. No worries there, Susan. Dr. Dan, experienced child psychiatrist, is clueless about your sexuality.

Dr. Dan tries hard to calm himself and act professionally. "It's okay Princess, you did nothing wrong. Miss Girardi has a lot of issues she is dealing with. Although this aspect comes as a surprise."

Joan smiles sheepishly. "Hello Dr. Dan. Long time no see."

"Susan, wait for me in the car while I have a word with Joan."

"Yes Dad." Susan meekly replies as she casts a guilty glance at Joan. She walks away toward a Bentley sedan.

Dr. Dan says, "Joan, I don't know why you hid this aspect of yourself during therapy, but as my ex-patient, that is no longer my concern. Susan is an innocent girl who doesn't need your advances confusing her during this hormonally upsetting time of her life. Let me be blunt, Susan is 17, a minor, and you are now a legal adult. Now I'd never want to do anything to embarrass my daughter, or a former patient. Your father is the chief of police, and you are the town's hero. If this came out, the scandal would be huge. Stay away from my little girl!"

To Dr. Dan's surprise, his belligerent attitude has no effect on Joan. She stands, smiles and looks him squarely in the eye…

"I hear you're making a career change, Dr. Dan. Switching from a lucrative private practice to public service? That won't keep you supplied with brand new Bentleys. Now why would you be making such a financial sacrifice with Susan only one year away from college? What could you hope to gain?"

Joan's words have a strange, chilling effect on Dr. Dan. He goes pale, and nervously begins backing away from her. The kiss from only a few minutes before now seemingly forgotten. Dr. Dan hurries back to his car. As he does, Susan passes him while saying over her shoulder…

"I'll be right back, Dad. I have to get my gym bag."

Arriving, Susan quietly says, "Sorry about that, Joan. I wasn't expecting Dad to come looking for me when I was late getting home from practice."

"How can he not know the truth?"

Susan shrugs. "My Dad is a good man, a wonderful father and a great doctor, but he's always had a blind spot when it comes to me. Someday I'll have to tell him, but until then I'll remain his 'Princess'."

"Don't you think he'd understand?"

"Sure he would. Dad is a modern man with modern views, and I'm certain he would adjust to the news and quickly accept it. But, it would forever alter our relationship. For a while longer, I'd like to remain his innocent little girl. Okay?"

"Sure, it's your call."

"Thanks. Hey, can I call you?"

"Yeah, okay. I'd like to hang out sometime."

Dr. Dan shouts from the car, "Susan!"

"Coming Dad!" Susan calls back as she gives Joan a wink.

Joan watches as Susan runs back to the Bentley. If this assignment lasted very long, things could get…awkward between them. But at least Joan has identified the problem. Dr. Daniel Radovitch, esteemed medical professional and a pillar of the community, has not one but two demons riding on his shoulders.

X X X X X

In the early evening, Joan is watching the street from a window in the living room. She spots two familiar cars parking in front of the house. Joan goes to the front door, opens it and waits. Moments later, the first one through the door is Grace Girardi, being pushed in a wheelchair by her father Rabbi Aaron Polonsky. Sarah Polonsky is right behind them, followed by Will and Helen, and lastly, Dr. Hunter.

"Grace, are you okay?" Joan asks.

Grace mutters, "I told everyone this was a waste of time! I was tired, so it was hard to wake me up. That's not worth a trip to the hospital!"

Helen responds, "Grace, we couldn't wake you for ten full minutes. We shouted, we shook you and we even sprinkled cold water in your face."

Dr. Hunter adds, "Yes Grace, you were unconscious."

"But I woke up feeling fine even before you could call for an ambulance. Doc, you even checked my vitals."

"Which were all in the normal range, but more sophisticated tests needed to be run for your sake, and for the baby's"

Grace pats her mid-section. "Which is the only reason I agreed to visit the emergency room. And what did they find? Nothing. Just like I knew they would. All of this fuss over a simple case of exhaustion. I'll admit I was pushing myself pretty hard over the last few days…"

"You sould have waited until after the birth before trying to get out of that wheelchair." Sarah says.

Grace looks annoyed but calmly replies, "Maybe you're right, Mom. Certainly my OB/GYN agrees with you. The only way she would agree to release me is by my agreement to get back in this damn thing."

"Grace, language." Rabbi Polonsky automatically says.

"Sorry. At least none of you made the situation worse by telling Luke about this… Right?"

Will hesitates before replying, "We promised not to call Luke as long as all of your tests turned out okay. But…we did send a text message asking Luke to call tonight."

"Oh crap—sorry. Brain Boy will be in a panic. He might even be on his way back to Arcadia."

Will responds, "No, we made certain the request sounded casual. I'm sure Luke doesn't suspect anything is wrong."

"Because there isn't!"

Sarah says, "Okay grumpy girl, time to get you back into bed."

"I'll help." Helen adds.

Moments later, an obviously resentful Grace rides the rail chair upstairs while Sarah and Helen solicitously follow her all the way. Joan can also detect a low level of resentment coming from Sarah Polonsky toward the Girardis. The fact Grace is choosing to live with her in-laws is a barely hidden sore spot with her. Hastily, Joan raises mental barriers to block her 'gift'. She still has trouble with the privacy issue.

Will asks, "Aaron, John can I tempt you with a scotch?"

Polonsky replies, "Maybe a small one. I rarely indulge, but after the stress of today…"

Dr. Hunter shakes his head. "No thanks. I need to keep a clear head for the drive back to the hotel, and for the mountain of paperwork I have to review before my meeting tomorrow with my replacement. So if you will excuse me, I'll be on my way."

"I'll show Dr. Hunter out." Joan adds.

Will and Rabbi Polonsky say a hasty farewell before heading for the den. Joan takes Dr. Hunter's arm and escorts him out to the porch, but once they are alone, Joan tugs him over to the porch swing.

"Doc, if you have the time, there's something we need to discuss."

"I would love to talk over numerous topics with you Joan, but I really do need to prepare for my meeting with Dr. Radovitch tomorrow morning."

"Actually, Dr. Dan is what I wanted to talk about. You do know he was once my shrink?"

"Yes, I remember that from your school file."

"Well, in full disclosure, I admit I've resented the man for a long time. Dr. Dan, besides running a successful private practice in the city, volunteers every summer at Gentle Acres."

"The camp for troubled teens on the west side of the county? I hear they do good work."

"Maybe, but they really blew it with me--especially Dr. Dan. After my bout with Lyme disease, I was sent to Gentle Acres because I was halucinating the day I was admitted into the hospital. When I got to Gentle Acres, I was so confused I confessed to Dr. Dan about talking to God. He convinced me that I was crazy."

"I'm sure Dr. Radovitch never called you that."

"No, he said I had invested myself in my fractured perception of reality. The point is, he took a sane girl and made her worse."

"Joan, you can't blame Dr. Radovitch for not believing you. Hearing messages from God is a classic psychosis, and any psychiatrist would try to lead you away from such a 'fractured reality'. How was he to know that in your unusual case, you spoke the truth?"

"Well...maybe I expected too much from his instincts. After all, you never had any trouble seeing the truth about me, Grace and I guess, all of your patients."

"Yes, having divine guidance was always a great advantage in my practice--one that Dr. Radovitch didn't share. So, are you willing to cut him some slack?"

"No. Dr. Hunter, I want you to use your influence with the school board to block Dr. Dan's taking over as District Psychiatrist. He isn't fit to hold the office."

"Joan, it's not like you to be so petty. Why are you so opposed to the man?"

"Because now I know why Dr. Dan always gave me the creeps. He's under the control of two demons!"

Stunned, Dr. Hunter can only stare in amazement while he digests this news. Meanwhile, Joan once again hears Ryans mocking voice in her head...

("You always wondered how I so easily blackmailed so many people. Now you know, Joan. I could see their demons. And tell John 'hello' from me, and remind him I don't forgive him for murdering me!")

"Joan, are you okay? You had the strangest look on your face."

"I'm fine, Doc. I'm fine. So you see what I mean about Dr. Dan?"

"Two demons?" Dr. Hunter dubiously asks.

"Yes, one is an envy demon, and the other is a greed demon. Technically, he isn't posessed, but I can tell Dr. Dan has spent years surrendering his will to them."

"This is a strange new area for me. Joan, are you sure? Is it possible your animosity has clouded your judgement?"

"You...you don't belive me? After all we've been through?"

Before Dr. Hunter can respond, Helen suddenly appears from the front door. "Oh John, I'm glad I caught you. Grace really wanted a chance to say goodbye. I know we've monopolized your whole day..."

John sighs, but forces a smile on his face. "Nonsense. I'd be happy to speak with Grace."

Dr. Hunter follows Helen back into the house while avoiding looking back at Joan. He wants to believe her, but his own problems with the divine connection have him doubting everything. Arriving at Grace's room, Helen knocks before entering...

"Grace, may we come in?"

From the bed Grace replies, "Sure, but if you don't mind, I was hoping to talk with Dr. Hunter alone."

"Certainly dear. Have a good talk." Helen exits.

Dr. Hunter moves a chair to the bedside. "Well Grace, it has been a momentous day. How are you doing, other than physically?"

"I'll admit I'm stressed, but...not about the trip to the hospital. Doc, are we still covered under that doctor/patient thing?"

"Technically, our professional relationship ended when I left the school system's employment. However, if you need a guarantee of confientiality, then consider yourself one of my private patients. Now, what has you so stressed?"

Grace breaks eye contact and gulps nervously. "What put me under so much stress is that my secret was almost found out today."

"Secret?"

"When you and Mama Girardi couldn't wake me this afternoon, it wasn't because I was unconscious. It was because I was having an out-of-body experience!"

TBC Please review.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

"How dare he?" Joan mutters under her breath as she lingers on the porch swing. She is so mad, she would gladly bite the head off of the next person who spoke to her.

"Problem, Girl-warrior?" a booming voice asks.

Joan sighs. This isn't what she had in mind. Joan doesn't bother to turn around as she recognizes the voice of her angelic tutor-slash-annoying pest. Besides, his appearance still creeps her out even after all of these months. Whoever decided angels looked like fat babies with tiny white wings was a moron.

"Are you here to finally tell me your name?" Joan asks, referring to an on-going dispute between them. Angels always obey God, but that doesn't mean they are without opinions. This particular warrior angel never seemed to care for this training assignment, and refusing to tell Joan his name is one of the ways he expresses his displeasure.

Ignoring her question, he says, "I hear you have your first multiple demon situation. That's surprising since you are barely adequate at dealing with the weakest solo demon."

(Is that a sneer Joan hears in his voice?) "Well, Goth Kid gave me the assignment, so I guess he knew what he was doing."

A burst of spiritual energy ripples through the air, nearly knocking Joan off the swing. She knows her tutor deeply resents the casual way she speaks of God, so this is her way of pushing his buttons. She knows he is never suppose to harm her, but wonders if one day she will go too far and he will smite her.

"So, you want to know how to deal with more than one demon at a time?" he asks.

"Yeah, how can I do that?"

"You can't. Not at your level. If we double up your training sessions, you might—might—be ready in a month…or two."

"I can't wait that long."

"Then you will have to deal with them the simple way, one at a time. Be aware, when you start with the first, the second one may urge your subject to attack you physically. Are you up to the challenge?"

"Yeah, I guess. You've been training me like a marine recruit all summer long—getting me in shape, and teaching me those weird angelic fighting techniques. Dr. Dan is old and out of shape. If I have to, I can take him."

"And can you do this while maintaining the level of concentration necessary to deal with demons?"

"Uh…"

"Not to mention your other distraction."

"Speaking of that, how long is Ryan going to be haunting me? He's really starting to piss me off."

"I explained this matter, and I don't like having to repeat myself. Check your notes."

"I don't have to—I remember. I'm suppose to ignore him because he only gets stronger when I respond. If I completely ignore him, he will weaken and eventually be out of my life. But it seems to be taking forever! Is this type of haunting common?"

"No, but Satan can make an exception when he chooses. After all, hell is his kingdom, and he can do what he wants there. Apparently he sees you as an enemy worthy of his attention. Hmm…perhaps Lucifer is getting feeble-minded in his old age?"

The insult is too blatant to ignore. Joan turns to confront her tutor, but she sees only a brief ripple in the air where he was, and hears only a faint echo of laughter…

"You're a big jerk, you know that?" Joan shouts into the night.

"Excuse me?" a voice from the sidewalk calls.

Joan looks and recognizes a neighbor walking his dog. "Mr. Sellers, sorry. I wasn't speaking to you."

"Who were you speaking to, Joan?"

"Uh, no one. I was just venting some anger."

"Well, good luck with that. Goodnight, Joan."

"Goodnight sir."

Joan resists the urge to vent again. Really, by now she should have learned to be more careful about what she says…

X X X X X

Upstairs in Grace's bedroom...

"Do you think I'm crazy, Dr. Hunter?"

"Because you claim to have had an out-of-body experience? No Grace, I've certainly heard of this before. For instance, some patients undergoing surgery will later claim to have witnessed the event from outside the body. Most experts believe the patient's mind records the procedure subconsciously, and the imagination provides a dream that fills in the details."

"This wasn't a dream, and it wasn't the first time."

"How many times has this occured?"

"I've lost track. It doesn't happen every time I fall asleep, but it does happen fairly often."

"How can you be so sure this isn't a form of dreaming?"

"Because I remember how this started. It was during the time of my coma. The details are fuzzy, but I remember I was in a peaceful, beautiful place where I was very happy. Then...I was visited by God."

"God...?"

"Hey Doc, don't give me that look. I'm not making this up."

"What did God look like?"

"That's one of the fuzzy details, but I knew it was 'Him'. God asked a favor. He wanted to briefly borrow my physical form. Since I wasn't using my body, I said sure. Later, when I woke up from the coma, I knew I had changed, but I didn't know how until the first time I left my body."

"Describe the experience."

"It was while I was still in the nursing home. It was late at night, and I was fast asleep. Suddenly, I was floating above the bed in some sort of ghost-like state. For a few moments, I watched myself sleeping--talk about a weird experience!"

"How long did this experience last?"

"Only a few minutes. Just long enough for me to accomplish my task."

"Task?"

"Yeah, I had this overwhelming urge to go somewhere--to witness something vital. It's not like I couldn't say no, but I didn't want to. I just knew this was something important. I traveled across the nursing home, going through walls like they weren't even there. No one was aware of my presence, but I could see and hear everything."

"Where did you end up?"

"The pharmacy. One of the night nurses was preparing the patients' morning medications. I was on a mild blood thinner to prevent blood clots because I was constantly stuck in bed. The nurse had patient cards on the counter with a little white cup on each card. When she had filled all the cups with the right medicine, she began transferring the cups to a tray, and attaching the room number to the cup. Mine, and the cup for the old man in the room next to mine, were the first ones on the tray. But then, the nurse accidentily knocked over a bottle of medicine. When she bent down to pick it up, she unknowingly bumped the tray--it did a one eighty spin. The nurse ended up attaching the wrong room numbers to my cup and the old guy's. Right after seeing that, I was sort of yanked back into my body."

"I'm guessing this account has a happy ending?"

Grace nods. "The first thing they do when they wake you in the morning is to hand you your medicine. I remembered what had happened, and I made such a huge fuss about double checking the medications, they did. That old man would have died if he had gotten my blood thinner, and his medication would have severely damaged my baby."

"This is amazing. And you've had similar experiences?"

"Well, yes and no. Most of the time I'm free to go where I want without any pull on me. During my nap this afternoon, I went to visit Luke. He was at a Labor Day barbeque with a bunch of other college kids. There was this red-headed skank who kept hitting on him despite the fact Luke was wearing his wedding ring. He tried to politely turn her down, but she wouldn't take no for an answer. Finally, Luke told the bitch to back the hell off. That he was a happily married man who loves his wife." (Grace chuckles.) "I never knew my geeky husband could be so forceful."

"That's quite a blessing--to be so reassured of his fidelity. But what about the other times, Grace? When you are 'urged' to witness something?"

"None of the other times have been as straight forward as the first experience. Over the last few weeks I've seen little snippets of a lot of meaningless events and conversations. None of it makes any sense to me. It's almost like I'm being shown pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, and I have to wait for the pattern to appear."

"Grace, you realize you're telling me that this ability, which is called astral projection, is being directed by God?"

"Which is why I'm wondering just how crazy I am. So what's next, Doc? A rubber room and a straitjacket?"

"No Grace, I believe you."

Grace snorts derisively. "You do? Great. My shrink is as crazy as me. Why would you believe me about this 'astral projection' thing?"

"I'm a man who has led an unusual life--spiritually. That opens me up to more possibilities than your average psychiatrist. But Grace, I would caution you about sharing this tale with others. Most people would react negatively."

"Yeah, I figured. But again...what's next? I was expecting you to talk me out of my craziness."

"When we have more time, I'd like to review the pIeces to your puzzle. Perhaps together, we can uncover that elusive pattern."

X X X X X

Later that night in the penthouse apartment of the most expensive apartment building in Arcadia, Susan Radovitch lounges on her bed wearing sweat pants and a tee shirt. She always preferred this casual attire to her closet's endless supply of lacy nightgowns and girly-girly dresses bought by her step-mom at the urging of her father. It is almost as if her Dad expects her 'tom-boy' stage to end at any moment, to be replaced with a never-going-to-happen princess phase. Step-mom undoubtedly knows the truth, but she has always chosen not to interfere in the odd father/daughter relationship.

Maybe Joan is right, she should tell Dad... Susan shakes her head. Despite the fact she was never a doll-playing, dress-wearing princess, Susan knows her Dad always wanted that sort of little girl. Maybe that is why he is in such denial of the blatantly obvious. She is certain that when she eventually tells Dad the truth, he will still love her and be fully supportive. But, she also knows that for just one moment she will see in his eyes a painful shattering of his dreams for her life. No matter how hard she tries, Susan can't bring herself to face that moment.

Susan sighs and resumes looking through last year's Arcadia High yearbook--lingering every time she comes across a photo of Joan. She closes her eyes, remembering the kiss and re-experiencing the excited tingling that swept through her entire body. Susan has limited experience with other girls, but none have excited her the way Joan does. She was always aware of how attractive Joan is, but until this afternoon she never imagined how intensely desireable she could be. Sadly, Susan could tell from the kiss that Joan is overwhelmingly straight. Still, she hadn't called off the 'experiment'. Maybe, if she went slowly and built trust, Joan could be persuaded to go further. Much further...

A knock on the door interrupts Susan's train of thought. Quickly, she slips the yearbook behind her pillow and opens her history text.

"Come in."

Dr. Dan enters the bedroom looking surprisingly ill at ease. "It's getting late, Princess. Are you ready to turn in?"

"As soon as I finish this chapter, Dad."

Dr. Dan nods and then hesitates until the delay becomes awkward...

"Dad, is there something wrong?"

"I was thinking about this afternoon."

"Dad, I told you, it was Joan who kissed me."

"I know. It's just that I think I over reacted."

"It must have been a shock."

"Yes, from a father's viewpoint. But from a doctor's perspective, I handled the situation badly. I should have remembered how fragile Joan is."

"Fragile?"

"Ethically I can't go into details, but Joan isn't as strong as she looks. I'm concerned that this new, tenative venture into bisexuality may be a tipping point for her."

"You're worried that if 'I' reject 'Joan' she might...go over the edge?"

"I know it must seem unlikely, but Joan's rash action today was really a cry for help. I'm concerned that any harsh blow to her ego could send her back to the state she was in when I first met her."

"That bad?"

"She was a basket case."

"I had no idea. " Susan lies. While she had only skimmed Joan's file last year, she did remember her Dad's preliminary notes. "So, what exactly are you asking me to do?"

Dr. Dan blushes deeply. "Nothing too over the line. Should Joan continue to express-uh-'romantic' feelings for you...maybe you could not reject her? I know I'm asking a lot..."

"I'm still not sure what you are asking. How far should I take this?"

Dr. Dan gulps hard. "I-I don't know. I'm concerned that if Joan is too abruptly denied... But, of course, I wouldn't want you to... That is..."

"Okay Dad, I think I understand."

Dr. Dan breathes a sigh of relief and wipes sweat from his brow. "Thank you, Susan. I'm sure this won't last long, and it may save a young woman's sanity. Thank you. Goodnight, Princess."

"Goodnight, Dad."

Dr. Dan exits, and Susan's mind races wildly. What the hell was that all about? Was he serious, or is this her Dad's way of letting her know he has finally figured out her 'secret'? Either way, it lined up perfectly with her plan for Joan...

Out in the hall, Dr. Dan struggles to control his tears. Oh God, how had he come to this point in his life? To use his own daughter as bait? But, he needed leverage. Somehow he knew, like from an inner voice, Joan's comments this afternoon were more than a shot in the dark. The town hero either knew or at least suspected his secret, and Joan had proven with the Ryan Hunter business that she can be a dangerous foe. He must act to protect himself. Tomorow he would hire a private detective to get the evidence he needed for his plan to ruin Joan...

TBC Please review.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

In the middle of the night in the Girardi master bedroom, Helen is restless as she begins to dream. Transition into her dream…

Helen is standing in front a beautiful Colonial style home in an expensive neighborhood. Nearby palm trees cause Helen to think she is in Los Angeles, but surely this isn't where her son lives. Kevin and Barbara share a two bedroom apartment near Venice Beach.

The front door of the house opens of its' own accord, and Helen finds herself gliding across the foyer and up the stairs. She has no control over her movement, and realizes God is arranging for her to witness something. Helen comes to a stop outside a bedroom door, and the sounds she hears behind the door leave no doubt as to what is happening in the bedroom. Just as she is wishing won't have to see what is going on there, the door opens and Helen glides in.

The darkened bedroom is only partially lit by the light from the hallway, but Helen can clearly see a naked couple vigorously making love. To her utter embarassment, Helen realizes the lean, muscular man is John Hunter, and the heavy-breasted, raven-haired beauty must be his girlfriend, Felicity. Desperately, Helen tries to turn her head or even close her eyes, but finds she can not.

As Helen watches the amorous couple nearing their moment of climax, she feels her embarassment giving way to…arousal. Desire sweeps over Helen, and she feels her blood boil with a passion greater than she has ever known. As pure lust causes her to tremble, Helen realizes she can move again. Reluctantly, Helen looks away, and then notices a bizarre sight. Hidden in the shadows of the far side of the bed is someone else. Or rather, some…thing that is dark and mishapen, and it is some how sharing the couple's moment of ultimate intimacy.

Suddenly Helen is awake, panting for air and quivering from an intense hormonal rush. Irresistably, she turns to her husband, sliding a hand under his tee shirt—caressing his chest while kissing him along the jawline. Will awakes with a start…

"Huh, what? Helen…what are you doing?"

In a throaty voice, Helen moans, "I want you, Will. Make love to me."

"Now? In the middle of the night? Helen, what's gotten into you?"

"My darling, I need you. Will, if you love me, have sex with me right now!" Helen gasps as she slides her hand down from his chest, going lower and lower.

Will Girardi is a man who recognizes a call to duty, and he is the type of guy who is always ready to rise to the occasion…

X X X X X

Meanwhile, in a luxury suite at the Wentworth Hotel in downtown Arcadia, John Hunter is also dreaming. Transition…

John finds himself in a room that seems to be all white glass. He is seated in a comfortable recliner with a remote control in his hand, and a large screen TV is in front of him. John looks about hoping to see the God version he calls 'Lord' (but whom Joan calls Dog-Walker God). John's version wears biblical style robes, and is always present in his dreams. But not this time. Dr. Hunter is alone.

"Lord? Lord, are you here?"

No response, but John knows from the spiritual energy surrounding him, this is a God given dream. Having no other option, John uses the remote to turn on the TV. A scene from the comedy show 'Improper' comes on the screen. In the scene, actor Keith Scotch plays the lead male role, 'Aldo'. Set 50 years in the future, Aldo works for for a gigantic, worldwide corporation. The company has its' own psychiatric counseling service, and Aldo goes there with the problem of a growing sense of isolation due to the ever increasing new, and frequently faulty, technology the company keeps introducing.

To Aldo's surprise, the company shrink has been replaced with a robot that he has to activate with his credit card. The robot listens to Aldo's heartfelt despair, and offers bland, psychological platitudes that have nothing to do with the patient's problem. In the end, the robot recommends to Aldo that he eat more bran—but only the type the company sells (followed by a brief commercial extolling the superior quality of that type of bran).

The set switches off by itself, but Dr. Hunter knows the rest. Aldo vows to restore the human psychiatrist to his position, and that begins a luddite struggle against the oppression of modern technology. John knows this because Kevin told him the plot last week, but the episode won't be filmed until next week…

The dream fades, and Dr. Hunter returns to normal sleep.

X X X X X

9-5-06/Tuesday morning.

Will Girardi yawns hugely as he enters the kitchen from the backstairs. He is not surprised to see Joan already up before him, sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, a Pop-tart and a copy of the city's remaining newspaper, the Arcadia Free Press. Will also pours himself a cup of coffee, and sits at the table. Wordlessly, Joan passes him the sports section which he accepts while yawning again.

"Rough night?" Joan asks with a suppressed grin.

"I didn't get a lot of sleep."

"No kidding. If my parents have to revisit their youth in the middle of the night (eww), could you guys at least control the volume?"

"You...heard us?"

"Half the neighborhood probably heard you. If you guys are experimenting with some new e-dee pill, maybe you need to cut the dosage. I just hope Grace isn't too embarassed to face the family."

Will responds by ticking off three ponts on his fingers... "One, we weren't that loud. Two, I don't need pills! Three, Grace--as a married woman-- is bound to be more understanding than you seem to be, my little girl."

Joan's face registers offense. Was that a crack about her seemingly endless virginity? Hey, weren't fathers suppose to be pro-virgin when it came to their daughters? Of course, she is closing in on 19...

"Maybe we should change the subject?"

"Fine. How was your run?"

(Will knows Joan has been rising early every day for months to go running. What he doesn't know is that a warrior angel has been tapping on Joan's window before dawn every day, and that he has been putting Joan through a grueling schedule of physical training and lessons in dealing with demons.)

"Routine." Joan replies, wishing she had known when she joined God's army just how literal that was. "Why did you send me to Gentle Acres?"

Wil sputters into his coffee. "I know we were changing the topic, but that really came out of nowhere."

"Actually, I've always wondered about it, but I had a reminder yesterday. So...why?"

"You have to realize how scared your mother and I were the day you were hospitalized. Helen had that weird premonition about you, and I...was having a pretty weird day myself. Then came the shock of your illness..."

"Okay, I get that. Beloved daughter sick with a high fever and hallucinating people who weren't there--scary stuff. But you knew it was all due to a disease, and I was under treatment. The hospital even released me the next afternoon. So how did we get from there to an expensive, six week stay in a camp for troubled teens?"

"Like I said, Helen and I were scared and ready to clutch at any hope offered us. The hospital's psychiatric consultant highly recommended Gentle Acres as just what you needed. I knew the place had a good reputation with the department's juvenile division, and the consultant was even a volunteer at the camp every summer..."

"Wait. I was sent to Gentle Acres on the advice of Dr. Dan?"

"That's right. Joan, are you okay? You look...stunned."

"Just experiencing a full circle moment." (Looks at her watch.) "I gotta jet. Classes start soon. Bye Dad." Joan says as she kisses her father's cheek and then heads for the front door.

Will reaches across the table and grabs the front section of the paper. He sighs as he sees the lead story with the caption: 'Local Hero Does It Again'. The photo shows Joan calmly facing down a knife-weilding Mrs Figliola. Another example of how amazing his daughter was. Will pauses, wondering how Joan got to be so amazing, and also wondering if that conversation about Gentle Acres was a hint for him...

Out on the front porch, Joan pauses as her new cell phone alerts her to a text message. It is from Susan: 'After school in the parking lot?' Joan texts back: 'C. U. there & then.'

X X X X X

Tuesday began well for Dr. Hunter. Elated by the return of a divinely inspired dream, he gave the matter considerable thought while enjoying a vigorous workout at the hotel's gym, followed by a healthy breakfast. Arriving early, as is his habit, at his old office at the Hogan County Schools Administration building, Dr. Hunter is happy to renew the acquaintance of his former secretary Marcie--even if that did entail listening to all the details of the lives of her numerous grandchildren. Ensconced in his old office with a cup of coffee, John Hunter waits patiently while thinking his successor obviously doesn't share his dedication to punctuality.

More time passes and patience begins to give sway to annoyance. By now Dr. Hunter is at the window watching his empty old parking space. Only the thought that Dr. Radovitch might have been in an accident is keeping John from complaining about the man being nearly an hour late without calling. Finally, a black Bentley sedan pulls into the parking space reserved for the District Psychiatrist.

A chubby, balding man of about 50 exits the car, checks his watch and appears to groan. As he rushes toward the building, Dr. Hunter notes that at least the man realizes what a bad start he has made for his first day. 'It won't be long now,' John thinks as he continues to stare at the luxury car down below. He didn't know Dr. Radovitch, even though they briefly met during a regional psychiatric seminar last year. But, John's contacts in the local medical community gave only glowing reports about the man. That was one of the reasons he had so much trouble believing Joan about her former doctor. Surely, someone influenced by demons of...oh yes, greed and envy--surely such a person couldn't be held in such high regard...

And yet, there was the Bentley. John only knows one person who drives such a car. The father of one of his young patients in his Beverly Hills practice, and that man is a billionaire. If one accepted that a person grew up with an overwhelming sense of envy of others, then it was logical that such a person would have a great need to be envied. A status symbol like a Bentley would be irresistable to such a man. But how could Dr. Radovitch afford such a car? Well, a doctor motivated by tremendous greed could always find unethical ways to acquire extra cash. Perhaps...just perhaps, he has misjudged Joan.

"Dr. Hunter, please forgive me for my tardiness. It has been a frantically busy morning." Dr. Dan says as he enters and shakes John's hand.

"Some sort of emergency?"

Dr. Dan momentarily hesitates. He isn't about to admit that he was busy hiring a private detective to follow the town hero. "Uh, one of my patients was having a crisis, and I had to be there. Unfortunately, my cell phone battery died, and I couldn't call in."

"You're still seeing private patients?"

"Yes. Aren't you aware of the circumstances of my hiring?"

"Apparently not."

"The school board searched all summer for your replacement, but having had an actual board-certified Beverly Hills psychiatrist seemed to have spoiled them. The usual crop of applicants just didn't measure up any more." (John can hear the pettiness in Radovitch's voice.) "So at the last moment, the board approached me and begged me to take the job. I saw it as my civic duty."

"And naturally, you haven't had time to send al of your patients to other therapists."

"It's a work in progress. Over the next month I'll still be seeing patients late in the afternoon and on Saturdays. By then I should be able to close my private office."

"I see. Well, shall we get started? The school system's red tape alone will take hours to explain."

The rest of the morning passes quickly, and John is impressed with how adept Dr. Radovitch is in picking up the intricacies of the job. Still, there is much more to cover, and they make an appointment to meet again. As John leaves the main office, he notices a stack of brochures on one of the tables in the waiting area. He picks one up and reads: 'Gentle Acres, a non-profit facility, serving the troubled youth of the tri-state area since 1995...'

"Marcie, since when do we have brochures for private facilities in this office?"

"Oh, Dr, Radovitch brought those in. The first thing he did was to place them around the office."

"Hmm, I do hear good reports about the place." John says as he slips a brochure into his jacket pocket. "Well, enjoy your day, Marcie."

"You too, Dr. Hunter."

X X X X X

Meanwhile, not far away at police headquarters, Lt. Delana Dean, juvenile division, enters Will's office...

"Chief, I have that data you asked for on Gentle Acres."

"What's the verdict, Lieutenant?"

"A-plus all the way. I polled all current officers in my division, as well as several former members of the ju-vee detail, and not one had a negative comment. Social services also gives Gentle Acres top marks."

"Why such high praise?"

"The ultra low recidivism rate. Once a hard case spends a summer at Gentle Acres, they rarely reappear in the system."

"That agrees with what I heard from Sheriff Rakowski. With so many trouble-makers being sent to Gentle Acres, they've always kept a close eye on the place. Vitrually no reports of trouble in over a decade. Apparently security is a high priority at the camp."

"So why the sudden interest, Chief?"

"Uh...a normally reliable source dropped a hint of trouble at the place. I guess this one time, my source was wrong."

"Glad to hear it. We recommend Gentle Acres to a lot of parents when they are at their wit's end as to what to do with their out-of-control kids."

"How did that begin?'

Lt. Dean shrugs. "It's been that way for years. I think we got started doing that after a local shrink began praising the place to the officers in the juvenile division."

"Would that have been a Dr. Radovitch?"

"Yes, I believe it was. Anything else, Chief?"

"No, that's all I need to know."

X X X X X

Later that afternoon, Helen is pacing nervously in the Girardi foyer. John Hunter was due to arrive soon, and Helen is dreading the meeting. After giving a lot of thought to her dream, Helen is convinced that it was a warning that she is suppose to pass along to John. Perhaps because John's own charism is on the fritz is why God chose her to tell him about...what? What exactly did she half see in his bedroom, and how can she explain it to her dear friend? Helen practices an opening sentence...

"John, during a divinely given dream, I watched you and your girlfriend going at it like a couple of horny teenagers..."

Helen groans her dismay. She hates this assignment, and the level of embarassment that it will cause both of them. Even more disconcerting is the nature of what happened. Going over the 'dream' in her mind, Helen has been wondering if it were a dream at all. She is by now very familiar with the divine dream experience, and this was vastly different. In other dreams she has experienced emotional, mental and spiritual stresses, but she has never had a physical reaction before. Could it be, she really was in John's bedroom in Los Angeles?

How could that be, since John is in Arcadia for this week? Since this was obviously some sort of warning for John, could she have seen something from the future? Certainly she has witnessed visions of coming events, but those were events never more than a few hours ahead. Of course, she was never actually there during a vision, but the hormonal tidal wave she experienced proves to her that she did physically exist at that place and time. (Helen smiles, remembering the best sex she and Will have had this year.) Whatever is, or will be, occuring in John's bedroom, it has an overwhelming sexual element. Only a few minutes exposure to that...thing, was more than she could handle. That is, if she really were there. Can even God transport you days, weeks or even months into the future?

The doorbell rings, and Helen braces herself for the ordeal ahead. She opens the door, and there is John Hunter...stark naked. Helen emits a noise that sort of sounds like, "Eep!" Instantly she closes her eyes...

"Hello Helen, aren't you going to invite me in?"

Cautiously, Helen opens one eye. Of course he isn't naked. John looks just like his usual self in a well-tailored grey suit. "John, sorry, I was day dreaming. Please come in."

Dr. Hunter nods his thanks and walks by Helen, pausing as he reaches the stairs. Helen slowly closes the door while keeping her back to John. Maybe if she avoids eye contact, this will be easier.

"John, there's something we need to discuss." Helen says as she turns to face him. Naked again. Quickly, Helen looks down at the floor.

"Is there a problem?"

Come on Helen, it's all in your head. And you were wrong--you need to look him in the eyes, and blurt it out. Helen's gaze begins to rise... His bare feet. His bare legs. His bare... Helen looks back down at the floor.

"On second thought, it wasn't important. Grace is waiting for you in the den, and is looking forward to your session with her. The doors are closed, so you will have plenty of privacy."

"Thank you. Are you sure there's nothing on your mind?"

"No, no, I'm fine. Uh, Grace is waiting."

"Okay, see you later."

"Yes, see you..."

John walks away, and Helen waits until she hears him opening the pocket door to the den before risking another look. Grey suit. After John closes the door behind him, Helen looks upward and softly adresses God...

"Look, there are a lot of things I'm willing to do for you, but I'm way out of my league here. Surely someone else can give John this warning, because I just...can't. Sorry."

X X X X X

Across the street from Arcadia High, a grey Ford is parked under a shady tree. A middle-aged man watches the parking lot with a camera by his side. Former police detective Bob Crowley is looking forward to this assignment. He is one of several former cops who resigned the police force when the big scandal broke three years ago. Basically an honest cop, Crowley did the occasional small favor in exchange for a favor back, or sometimes a little extra spending money. It was never anything big--lots of guys did it--but it was enough to get him in hot water if he were caught. So, he and several of his fellow cops quit with the understanding that if their names never came up in any major matter, they would be given a pass on prosecution. Will Girardi's housecleaning of corruption had cost Crowley his job and his pension. Now working as a private detective, Crowley is pleased at the prospect of catching any Girardi in a scandal...

In the school parking lot, Joan is parked next to Susan's car, which she recognizes from last year. There were still a few minutes before the end of school, and Joan is trying to calm herself as she faces the prospect of her first official date with a lesbian. Joan groans as she contemplates the things she has to do in God's service. She has nothing against Susan, but she really doesn't want to...go there. Her phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Hey Joan, I got that list you e-mailed me." Friedman says.

"Hey Friedman, how is Yale?"

"Very ivy league. About the list..."

"Enjoying your classes?"

"They're fine. Is this a bad time?"

"No, I'm just feeling guilty about the list I sent you."

"Why?"

"I did something I thought I wouldn't have to do again. I used that key to Dr. Dan's storage locker, and went through his files until I find his old tax records. I needed to find out how he is able to live such a luxurious life style. He does make a really good living as a shrink, but not nearly enough to cover his expenses. Do you think I'm vile for doing this?"

"Of course not, and neither should you. God gave you an assignment, and you have to fulfill it. He must know the methods you use, and yet he still calls on you. As far as I'm concerned, that means you have divine approval."

"Well, I'm not too sure about that. He and I have had a few discussions about the end justifying the means, and he isn't too enthusiastic about some of my choices. But it's one of those omelet and eggs things. That's how I found out Dr. Dan is getting hefty annual retainers as a psychiatric consultant from a lot of companies."

"Yeah, I'm looking at the list right now, and I've never heard of any of these companies."

"Can you check on them for me? See if you can find out why they are paying Dr. Dan so much money?"

"I'm already on it, but it may take awhile. They all seem to be based overseas. I'll contact you as soon as I have anything to report."

"Thanks Friedman. I'm glad I can still count on you for help, and for keeping my secret."

"And you always can. Bye Joan."

"Bye."

Joan disconnects just as she feels someone plant an affectionate kiss on her cheek. She looks through the open window of the Jeep and sees a smiling Susan Radovitch. Across the street, Bob Crowley is busy taking photos...

TBC Please review.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Joan chooses a public place for her date with Susan—Fum's Coffee Bar, a coffee house just around the corner from Dr. Dan's office. She is surprised when Susan offered no objection to her father's close proximity. They take separate cars, and Joan quickly spots the detective who is following her (the war with Ryan taught her to double check for such things).

The two girls have their laptops with them, and while enjoying over-priced lattes, they share favorite websites. The pair has a lot of fun making funny or seriously thoughtful reviews of various new movies, songs and TV shows. Joan finds she enjoys Susan's snarky sense of humor, and doesn't mind when she begins turning their conversation toward more personal topics.

With an uncharacteristic giggle, Susan asks, "So when was the first time you got felt up?"

Joan briefly laughs bittersweetly. "That would be Jim Dawes, eighth grade. Not a good memory."

"Was he clumsy?"

"He was 13 and did the best he could. Jim was my first official boyfriend, and I remember I use to wake up every morning with a smile on my face thinking: 'I have a boyfriend'!"

"Sounds good so far."

"It started great—the excitement of this new experience. I thought I was so grown up after a ten minute kissing session with him. But of course, he eventually wanted more than kisses. Jim begged me for two weeks to please, please, please let him get to second base." (Joan shrugs.) "Eventually, I did."

"And the bad part?"

"He got what he wanted, and the next day he bragged to every guy in school. It was his not too subtle way of dumping me. He…broke my heart. I spent the next month crying and eating mint chocolate chip ice cream."

"The rat bastard. I hate anybody, guy or girl, who plays with someone else's emotions like that."

Joan gulps, feeling a little guilty. "Uh, yeah, that's not cool. So what about you? Who was your first…er, person?"

Susan laughs. "You were going to say 'guy' and then changed it. Well, I'll have you know, the first 'person' to put the squeeze on me was also a guy."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. It was the graduation dance from junior high. I knew even then that I preferred girls, but I didn't feel comfortable going to a school dance with another girl, so I wasn't planning to attend. But, my Dad wouldn't let it go--that I shouldn't miss one of those big life moments. I certainly wasn't ready to tell him the truth, and frankly, I wasn't completely sure I didn't have a little bit of 'bi' inside of me. So, I did my own version of 'the experiment'. I got a simple dress, put on a little make-up, and went with a guy I knew wasn't going to have a date for the dance."

"He doesn't exactly sound like the cream of the crop."

"Oh, he wasn't so bad. He was chubby, but I didn't mind that. Mostly he was kind of shy, and that's why I knew he wouldn't be asking anyone else. It was a first date for both of us, and I at least tried to make it a good experience for him. Scott Taschen is his name. We still go to Arcadia together."

"I met Scott. I stick with what I said, not the cream of the crop."

Susan shrugs. "I wasn't looking for a grand romance. I just wanted to see what it was like to date a boy, even if it was the only time in my life."

"How did it go?"

"Actually, it was okay. Once Scott loosened up, he turned out to have a weird, crude sense of humor that appealed to me. He was an okay dancer, and I really like to dance. Plus, it was fun freaking out all the kids who thought they had me pegged. Toward the end of the evening, Scott and I slipped away to a supply closet and started making out. He was sooo grateful, especially when I let him get his hands on my boobs. But as I expected…"

"Nothing?"

"It was like trying to light a candle with a squirt gun. It just wasn't working. I suppose it could have been worse. Scott enjoyed himself, and I learned for sure I am one hundred percent gay, for which I'm grateful. I never again had a reason to slither into one of those horrible dresses."

"I noticed you never wear them. Personally, I kinda like the girly-girly experience."

"Hey, there's an idea. For our next date you could come to my place and try on all the stupid dresses my folks insist on buying for me. Anything you like, you can keep."

"And I suppose you would be watching me change?"

Susan grins. "A girl is entitled to have at least a little fun in life."

"I'm not sure I'd be comfortable with that."

"Hey, what's the big whoop? We use to shower together after soccer practice."

"With twenty other girls, and we were so mad at each other then, it never occurred to me that you might be attracted to me."

"I wasn't. I mean, sure, I noticed…that you have a great body, but I never thought of you…that way."

"That's not the only reason why I'd be uncomfortable. Hanging out with the kid of your shrink, past or present, is really awkward. Last year I dated the son of the District Psychiatrist, and I was never comfortable in his house."

Susan chuckles. "Sounds like you have a thing for the offspring of any District Psychiatrist. But okay, I get how uncomfortable that could be. Trust me, I'd pick a time when I knew we would be alone. Besides, I don't think my Dad would mind if you were in my bedroom."

Joan laughs nervously. "That's not the impression I got yesterday. I thought Dr. Dan was going to pop a blood vessel when he saw us kissing."

"Oh that. After dad calmed down, he had a change of heart. You'll get a laugh out of this, but now he's worried that I might hurt your psyche if I rejected your 'bisexuality'. Hilarious?"

Joan thinks: 'So that explains why we are dating with a detective following us. Dr. Dan, you old schemer'. "Actually, that sounds really sensitive of your father. I'm not surprised. At Gentle Acres I realized how...dedicated your dad is to his patients."

"That's true. Growing up I learned to expect that Dad would only have a limited amount of time to devote to me because his patients needed him so much. Don't get me wrong, if I were ever in need, he was always there. I never doubted that I was first priority in his life. Still, I use to miss him in the summer when he spent so much time volunteering at Gentle Acres."

"I do admire that about him. Dr. Dan has such a hectic schedule with his private practice, but he always finds time to help others. During my time at Gentle Acres, I spent every day crying out my problems to him. But then, you know that."

Suisan blushes. "Again, I'm so sorry for invading your privacy. Was your time at Gentle Acres really that awful?"

"It seemed so at the time, but hey, at least I learned to make a lot of unusual lamps. What's your opinion of the place?"

"I've never visited there."

"Really? But it's such a big part of your father's life. Aren't you curious?"

"Of course I am, but Dad made it clear he never wanted me to go there, what with all of the..."

"Crazy people?"

Susan blushes again. "Uh yeah, that and all the juvenile delinquents who end up there."

"Oh, them. That part wasn't so bad. Security was ultra tight, and you never felt at risk. In fact, your dad had a program where he would team up tough kids with what you might call nature's victims. They had to work as a team to win extra priviledges. It helped the 'predators' see their prey as real people. Stirring their underdeveloped sense of empathy."

"And that always worked?"

"No, some of them were such hard cases, nothing seemed to work with them. They would be weeded out from the herd and kept in a high security area that was strictly off limits. I have no idea how the camp dealt with them. I guess I see why your dad didn't want you there, even for a short visit."

"And I really wanted to see the place, especially since it was a part of my heritage."

"Meaning?"

"Oh, years ago I was rummaging through my Dad's desk when I came across some papers that told how Gentle Acres got started. The land originally belonged to my Dad, and he donated it to the charitable organization that runs Gentle Acres. I guess that's why he's always had such a strong connection with the place."

Joan pauses, musing over this information. "Yes, that explains a lot."

X X X X X

In the Girardi den, Dr. Hunter looks over Grace's list of out-of-body experiences...

"Are these twelve incidents the only ones you remember, Grace?"

"It's a complete list, Doc. Trust me, I haven't forgotten any of the times I was 'sent'."

"How do you feel about that, Grace?"

"Do you mean about God utilizing me this way?"

"You weren't exactly given a choice, Grace. God is apparently using you without your consent. I find that disturbing."

Grace shrugs. "That's not how I see it. I think of this as a gift."

"How so?"

"Look at me, Doc. I'm as big as a house and as weak as a kitten. I hate this! I've never been so helpless...and dependent on others. Being able to 'astral' travel , to be pain free without restriction, is the greatest freedom I've ever felt. If the price for that is occasionally witnessing some weird things for...Him, then that's okay with me. Besides, I know--and don't ask me how--that I can say 'No' at any time. But then, it would all go away."

"I'm relieved to know you have given some level of consent to these experiences. Now, as to your list, the one common factor seems to be this person you call 'T.M.' He appears in every event but one."

"Sorry for the abbreviation. I was in a hurry when I made the list. T. M. stands for Teddy Marks."

"I know that name... Oh yes, he had a red stripe file because of violence. I remember he spent a summer at Gentle Acres, and there was some rumor about him..."

"That he was a drug dealer? Because he supplied the whole school. Teddy graduated back in June after five years at Arcadia High."

"Did you recognize anyone else from these astral events?"

"Not sure. I watched Teddy in meetings with a variety of tough looking guys--most of them in their late teens or early twenties. This was usually at night because my astral travel happens in real time. One of the guys Teddy met with, this was during an afternoon nap for me, he looked familiar. I think he was a senior at Arcadia when I was a freshman, but I'm not sure."

"He's the one you saw with Teddy taking target practice with a rifle?" Dr. Hunter asks as he consults the list.

"Yeah, they were out in the woods. Weird thing, they were on a small platform high up in a tall tree and shooting at a target far away."

"Some people hunt deer that way. The hunter waits on the platform near a deer trail, waiting for his target to show up."

"I don't think these guys were hunters. Anyway, this other guy--the one with the rifle--I later saw alone on the roof of a tall building. He was using binoculars to watch a business across the street--a restaurant, I think. That's the only event I witnessed without Teddy being there."

"Could you make out which restaurant, Grace?"

"Nah. It was downtown, because of how tall the buildings were, but the restaurant was too far away to see without binoculars. Maybe the first letter in the name was a 'B', 'P' or "R'. Sorry I can't be more sure."

"And the other events were mostly one-on-one with Teddy and other young men, and they mostly talked about money and drug deals? But what is this item on your list described as a tribal council?"

"That's how I thought of that bizarre gathering. It was deep in the woods in a circle of lit torches. Teddy Marks was there standing next to a pole with a wolf's head on it."

"A wolf's head?"

"Yeah, like what you would get from a taxidermist and hang on a wall, except that this one was on a pole. All the guys I'd seen meeting with Teddy, plus a bunch more, were facing him. In unison, they all pulled out knives, took one step forward, and then dropped to their knees before Teddy. I can't imagine what that was about."

"It sounds like an established ritual...maybe a loyalty oath? Gangs often have elaborate rituals in such matters, but the addition of the wolf's head makes this sound like a very old ritual. I see what you mean about all of this being pieces of a puzzle."

"Don't forget the final piece."

"The one you labeled Old Guy/Greenhouses?"

"Yeah, that was another daytime nap event. Teddy was with an Old Guy near a row of really large greenhouses. They talked as equals about some upcoming event. Teddy wanted to get started right away, but the Old Guy convinced him to stick with their schedule."

"Can you describe the man better than 'Old Guy'?"

Grace shrugs. "Fifties, balding and kinda fat. He was well dressed and sounded educated."

Dr. Hunter pauses, thinking. He removes the Gentle Acres brochure from his pocket and silently reads the third page: 'Our new, state-of-the-art greenhouses provide fresh, organically grown vegetables year round...'

X X X X X

Back at the coffee house, Joan and Susan's date is drawing near to a close. They put away their laptops and finish their drinks...

"This was fun. How about tomorrow we meet at my place around noon? We can do that thing with the dresses, and I promise--really promise--I won't peek." Susan eagerly says.

Joan sighs. Away from home and close friends, she has been diligently using her new ability to read people, including Susan. Joan again feels guilty about this, especially since she knows Susan's attraction is moving beyond the physical into a real fondness. Joan realizes that continuing, now that she has what she wanted, would be cruel.

"Susan, I too had a good time--surprisingly good. As first dates go, this has been one of the best I've had. But, every time I think about how much I like you, one thought keeps coming to mind."

"What's that?"

"I wish you had a penis."

Susan loudly cackles with laughter, drawing the attention of the other shop patrons. Susan bristles and shouts, "What are you looking at?"

The others look away, and Susan turns back to Joan. "Sorry, but that was so funny."

"Susan, I wasn't joking. You're great, and if this was going to happen with any girl, it would be you. But...I'm a candle who needs the squirt gun."

"Maybe...maybe if we gave it more time? If you need to relax, I could get a bottle of wine, and..."

"And maybe if I got drunk enough, I'd go through with it? How do you think I'd react if a guy made that suggestion?"

"Yeah, I see what you mean. It's a shame, because I think we would be great together."

"I'm sure you're right, but it just wasn't meant to be."

After that, there was nothing more to be said. Joan escorts Susan out to her car, and they pause for their farewells.

"I'm sorry Susan that this 'experiment' was such a failure. I hope we can remain friends?"

Susan shrugs. "Sure. I guess I can always use more friends. Goodbye, Joan."

"Goodbye, Susan." Joan says as she leans in and gives Susan an affectionate kiss on the cheek.

Susan smiles, enters her car and drives away. Joan curses under her breath. She hated hurting Susan, even if it were only a little, because she knows there is more pain to come. She has the assignment to get Susan to see her father with a true perspective. Susan's hero-worship of her dad, marred only by his blind spot to her sexuality, was a happy fantasy that Joan will have to destroy.

"Why God? I know you're upset with me for not being totally diligent about practicing my new ability, but I need your advice. Do I really have to crush Susan's world like this? I know the truth is important to you, but isn't there another way? I don't want Susan to go through what Stevie Marx experienced, because this will be worse. At least Erica Marx's crime was motivated by love. Dr. Dan's crimes will show him to be the greedy, self-absorbed man he has become."

Joan pauses for an answer, but all she hears is her cell phone ringing. The caller I.D. says: The Friedman.

"Hey Friedman, what's the good word?"

"Joan, I have a preliminary report for you on all of those companies who are paying Dr. Dan. I've only checked three so far, but the trend is obvious..."

"Let me guess. They're all overseas sham companies that exist in name only?"

"How did you know?"

"It's what made sense considering what I've learned and suspected. Were you able to trace them back to their parent company?"

"Yes, I knew that would be a high priority. So far they are all owned by an international charitable organization that exists in name only. The only real asset the place seems to own is Gentle Acres."

"And I'll bet the sole officer of the organization is Dr. Dan."

"Once again, you're way ahead of me. Although it is well hidden, Dr. Dan is the true owner of Gentle Acres, and its' huge profits are laundered overseas before coming back to him. But why would he do that?"

"Conflict of interest. For years Dr. Dan has been volunteering at hospitals, with the police and social services all so he could recommend Gentle Acres to disraught, desperate parents. Those people have been mortgaging their homes, selling their cars and borrowing large amounts of money just so they can afford to help their kids. The sad twist is that Gentle Acres' tough love practices actually helped a lot of disturbed kids."

"But when this scandal breaks, Gentle Acres will be closed, and Dr. Dan will lose his license. He probably will go to jail. At least that part must give you some satisfaction, Joan."

"Less than you think. Thanks for your help, Friedman."

"I'll stick with it until I have all the details nailed down, and then I'll do the anonymous source method to get it to your dad."

Joan sighs. "Okay, I guess we have no choice in the matter. Talk to you soon."

Joan disconnects and begins walking toward Dr. Dan's office building. She might as well let the old goat know she is on to him. Maybe, she can convince him to give himself up? That would spare him the harshest penalties. As she walks along, she notices Bob Crowley still following her. Now that he is in the open, she recognizes the former police detective. Fine, follow me to the guy who hired you. All you've got to show for your efforts are couple of innocent kisses on the cheek.

Joan crosses the wide boulevard that separates the businesses of the historic district from the very tall office building across the street. As Joan rides the elevator to the top floor, she ponders Dr. Dan's latest scheme. By closing his private office, Dr. Dan will save a fortune in expenses, and as District Psychiatrist, he will have access to an endless stream of desperate parents he can exploit. That's the thing about giving into Greed, there's never enough.

The receptionist smiles as she recognizes Joan... "Miss Girardi, how nice to see you again. If you're here to make an appointment, I have bad news."

"No Mrs Tanner, I'm here on a private matter about...Dr. Dan's daughter and me. Can he spare a moment?"

Mrs Tanner gives Joan a suspicious look. She is apparently aware of Susan's true nature. "Uh...certainly. If you will take a seat, the doctor is finishing up with his last patient of the day."

Joan nods and sits next to a coffee table piled high with magazines. She rummages through them, but doesn't find any current issues. While reading a three year old article on Hillary Duff, Joan hears the door to Dr. Dan's office opening. Suddenly, she is aware of a great evil, and knows she is in terrible danger...

TBC. Please, please review.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

"Joan Girardi, you effing bitch! You outed me to my Dad."

Joan backs up, ready to do battle if she must. Teddy Marks is standing in the doorway with a curious Dr. Dan standing right behind him. Joan knows Teddy is a tough, dangerous street punk who is probably armed. But he is also the first person Joan has met who is fully demon possessed, and worst case scenario—it is a wrath demon.

"T-Teddy, long time…"

"Shut it. I'm glad I ran into you, Joan. In the rush of my business plans, I'd forgotten I owe you some of my…special attention."

To be honest, Joan had forgotten too. Last year she used the photo of Lars Closterman and Teddy kissing as a bargaining chip in her effort to keep her friend Artie the Dip from being whacked by Teddy's gangster father, Lou Marks. Lou was determined not to let his wise guy brethren learn he has a gay son, and a deal was worked out to save Artie.

"Yeah, well I owe you one too, Teddy."

"How do you figure?"

"Because of you, Judith Montgomery is dead."

"Who?"

"Judith was one on my best friends. She was with me the day we took that picture of you and Lars kissing. Because of that, you put her on your never-sell-to list…"

"Now I remember. She got stabbed when she tried to buy 'X' from one of the punks who worked for the Russians. I guess that evens the score between her and me, but as for you…"

"Uh, how is Lars? I lost track of him after he graduated." Joan says in a desperate attempt to distract Teddy.

"Lars? Haven't thought of him in a long time. Last I heard he went to Hollywood hoping to be an actor. Knowing that loser, he's probably turning tricks on Sunset Boulevard. I know you're trying to distract me, Joan. It won't work. Why don't we take a little walk so we can…talk over old times."

Joan gulps nervously. If she went with him, he would kill her, but staying here with witnesses was no guarantee of safety. Spurred on by his wrath demon, Teddy is capable of killing them all. To Joan's surprise, Dr. Dan intervenes…

"Teddy, my office is no place to settle your differences. Let it go."

For a few moments Teddy and Dr. Dan stare each other down. Joan sees it as a contest of wills, but not between therapist and patient. Rather, it is a battle between the interests of Dr. Dan's two demons versus Teddy's one. Slowly, Teddy grins and nods.

"Sure Doc, whatever you say. This can wait until another time."

Teddy heads for the exit, roughly brushing by Joan. At the door he pauses and looks back—his eyes glowing pools of hate…

"See you soon, Joan. Real soon."

Teddy exits and Joan has to remind herself to breathe. Her stomach churns and her knees are wobbly as she turns back to face a grinning Dr. Dan. The old fool, he has no idea of just how close he came to dying.

"How long have you been treating Teddy Marks?"

"You know I can't discuss another patient, Joan."

Joan shrugs. "No matter. I already know he has long standing anger issues. Plus I know Teddy resents his father for insisting he keep his sexuality secret, and for making him quit the drug business."

Dr. Dan smugly smiles but says nothing. He doesn't have to. Joan can read him better than any lie detector. Teddy hasn't quit selling drugs, and Dr. Dan knows it.

"Is there a reason you came by to see me, Joan?"

"There was, but it doesn't seem so important now. I'll talk to you some other time, Dr. Dan." Joan says as she heads for the exit. At the door, Dr. Dan calls out a parting shot…

"Not if Teddy 'talks' to you first, Joan."

Outside the office building, Joan cautiously checks for Teddy Marks, but he is nowhere to be seen. Joan's dutiful tail, Bob Crowley, continues following her. She is now grateful for his presence. Hurrying back to her Jeep, Joan heads for home while Crowley rushes back to his own car. Neither immediately notice a green van is now also following Joan...

X X X X X

9-6-06/early Wednesday morning.

Nate Felix, security guard, is surprised to see Dr. John Hunter knocking on the glass door of the school administration building an hour before the start of the day's business. A familiar and popular person, Nate has no problem opening up early for Dr. Hunter.

"Good morning, Nate."

"Good morning, sir. You're here bright and early, Dr. Hunter."

"Yes, I needed to research some files before my meeting with Dr. Radovitch."

"Certainly, sir. You know the way. I have to watch the desk until the morning security staff arrive."

"Thank you, Nate."

Dr. Hunter walks down the hallway feeling a bit guilty. As an ex-employee of the school system, he has no right to be going through confidential student files, but necessity sometimes trumps ethics. Dr. Hunter pauses at the door to the records department, hoping his old security card will still work. He swipes the card and is rewarded with a 'click' as the door unlocks. Really, security should be tighter than this. Thinking of lax security, John remembers the records manager use to keep a spare master key for the filing cabinets hidden under a potted plant on her desk... Bingo.

Dr. Hunter again uses his card to enter the files storage room, which is a huge chamber over flowing with filing cabinets. Virtually all school records are now kept on computer, but any information on psychological counseling is still kept only in traditional files to prevent intrusion by hackers. Dr. Hunter quickly finds and begins reading Teddy Marks' file. It is a long record of fights, vandalism, theft and other anti-social behavior up through Teddy's freshman year at Arcadia High. Periously close to being sent to a special high secuirty school for incorrigibles, Teddy spent the summer after freshman year at Gentle Acres. Upon his return for his sophmore year, Teddy seemed completely reformed--no more fights or angry outbursts appear in his record.

In the back of the file, Dr. Hunter finds Gavin Price's voluminous notes on Teddy Marks. Apparently the late vice-principal was unconvinced of Teddy's sudden change into a law abiding, underachieving student. Price kept a close watch on Teddy, and included his speculation that Teddy Marks ran all the drug activity at Arcadia, even though Price could never prove it. Added to this is a carefully cross-indexed list of Teddy's close associates during his sophmore, junior and two senior years.

Hunter begins checking the files on these new names, carefully photographing the I.D. pictures of each with his cell phone. Perhaps, he can find Grace's unknown rifleman. As Dr. Hunter goes from file to file, he quickly sees an emerging pattern. Everyone of the young men has an extensive record of violence and trouble-making during their early years, but after a summer at Gentle Acres--no more trouble. It is an impossibly high rate of reform amongst incorrigible teenage boys.

"What the dickens...?" Dr. Hunter murmurs.

Or maybe, that's the answer. A modern day Fagin? Suppose Dr. Radovitch, motivated by demons of greed and envy, saw a way to enhance his reputation to golden levels while also lining his pockets? Realizing many of these boys could never be put on the straight and narrow path, Radovitch instead began teaching them how to channel their anger and anti-social ways into being smart, professional crooks--for a cut of the profits, of course. Teddy Marks went to Gentle Acres as a bully and petty thief, but returned an untouchable drug dealer...

Quickly, Dr. Hunter returns the file room to normal while thinking about his next step. He must confirm his suspicions with Grace, check to see if Helen has had any dreams relevant to this situation and consult with Joan (after apologizing). Eventually, while protecting his secret, he will have to find a way to put this matter before Will Girardi...

X X X X X

Meanwhile, at police headquarters, Will Girardi has also arrived unusually early. Will pours himself a cup of coffee while noting that he has beaten his secretary Jean into work for the first time in months. Well, the budget proposals had to be done on time, no matter how many hours it took. As Will gets to his office door he sees Detective Third Class Rodriguez (recently promoted from patrolman) waiting for him.

"Good morning, Detective. Isn't your shift about to end?"

"In just a few minutes, Chief. I was working on my report of last night's investigation... You heard about Crowley?"

"The desk sergeant told me. Killed in a driveby shooting?"

"Yes Chief. The call came in about 11:15 last night, just as I was coming on duty--so I got the case."

"Just you? What about your partner?"

"O'Brien is out with the flu. As I was saying, I was writing up my report when I realized I needed the advice of a senior officer."

"What about your shift supervisor?"

"This is a delicate matter that probably should be your call, Chief."

"Alright Detective, fill me in on the details." Will says as he enters his office and waves Rodriguez into a chair in front of his desk.

"Last night a Mr. Wilson Yates, 56, left the Comstock Bar on 14th street and began unsteadily walking his way home. When he reached Euclid, he looked before crossing the street, and saw at the next corner, 13th and Euclid, a grey Ford waiting at the red light."

"Euclid and 13th? That's only ten blocks from my house."

"Yes Chief. Mr. Yates saw a green van pull up alongside the Ford, a double barrelled shotgun emerged and fired at the driver of the Ford, Bob Crowley. The van sped away and Yates called in the shooting on his cell. I arrived at 11:28, and identified the victim by his driver's license."

"You didn't recognize Crowley?"

"Sir, he must have looked toward the shooter just as the shotgun went off. His face was gone. Did you know Crowley was working as a private detective?"

"It was common knowledge."

"I went to Crowley's home and found his wife waiting up for her husband's return."

"How did she take it?"

"Hard. She assumed Crowley would be safer now that he was out of police work."

"Private detective work involves mostly divorce cases and catching employees who are stealing from their companies. That could earn Crowley a lot of bitter enemies."

"Which is why I asked Mrs Crowley for permission to examine Bob's computer--he has...had, his office at home. Mrs Crowley even supplied her husband's password."

"I'm guessing we are about to come to the 'delicate matter'."

"Yes Chief. Yesterday morning, a local psychiatrist named Radovitch hired Crowley to follow a college student who has been making inappropriate advances to his underaged daughter. Dr. Radovitch wanted photographic proof in case things got out of hand."

A sudden, disturbing thought crosses Will's mind... "And the name of that student?"

"Joan Girardi."

Will's mind whirls as he takes in this news. Was it possible? How could he have been so blind all of these years? No, no, it can't be true... And yet, he has been wondering why all of his daughter's romances with boyfriends seem to end so badly. Like all fathers, he carefully guarded his daughter from growing up too fast, but since she entered college and was approaching 19, Will has been wondering if Joan might have some sort of hang-up when it came to sex. Of course he could never discuss this very personal matter with his daughter--the reason why she has remained, as the nuns at his old high school use to call it, "unspoiled."

"Chief...?"

"I'm sorry Detective, you've caught me off guard."

"Then you didn't know your daughter is gay? That she has been protecting her...privacy?"

"To my knowledge, Joan is not gay. So if you're thinking she had a motive to keep that quiet..."

"Chief, you know I have to cover all the bases. Is it possible she was keeping a big secret from you? That you never suspected something was...different about her? After all, her former shrink seemed pretty sure about her sexuality."

Will pauses. Yes, for years he has suspected something odd was going on with his daughter, but this possibility never occured to him.

"Let me set your mind to rest, Detective. Joan was home all night, and when the crime occured, I was kissing her goodnight just before she went up to bed."

Rodriguez breathes a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Chief. I'm glad I can cross your daughter off of any possible suspect list. You see, the one thing the killer took was Crowley's digital camera, so naturally I assumed his murder had something to do with his current case." (Checks his watch.) "My shift is now over, so I will finish writing up my report when I return at 11:00 this evening. At that time, I'll have to add the detail of your daughter being Crowley's last case. If that gets out..."

"The media will have a field day. There's nothing they like better than tearing down a hero with some sort of scandal. Thank you Detective for the head's up, and for the time to deal with this before others find out. And thank you for realizing this has to go in the official report. An omission like that would be disastrous for every one."

Will and Rodriguez stand and shake hands.

"No problem, Chief." Rodriguez says before exiting.

Will watches Detective Rodriguez leave as he ponders his next move... Radovitch. He was definitely going to get answers from Dr. Dan.

X X X X X

In a wooded area to the north of town, Pete Zeidler and his cousin Petey Zeidler are facing an enraged Teddy Marks...

"You killed a cop. You killed a cop! Have you forgotten everything Dr. Dan taught us? The one sure way to get the cops to break the rules and go after us any way they can is to kill a cop!"

"Ex-cop." Pete softly corrects.

"You didn't know that at the time."

Petey, the smaller and whinier of the cousins, pleads... "No, but we had a good reason. We did it because of you, Teddy. Uh, Boss."

"Me? How so?"

Petey replies, "We were following the Girardi girl just like you told us. All she did was go straight home and stay there. When we realized she was in for the night, we started to leave..."

Pete adds, "That's when we spotted Crowley, and he was taking pictures of us! I recognized him as the cop who arrested me for shop lifting six years ago. My Dad had to slip him a thousand to make that go away."

Petey continues, "We knew we couldn't let Crowley get away with photos of us tailing the police chief's daughter, not if you were serious about killing her. By the way, how is that any different from killing a cop?"

"Are you challenging me? You think I'm not serious?"

Both cousins quickly shake their heads. Teddy Marks isn't a phsically imposing young man, but something about his anger made your guts turn to jelly.

Pete quickly says, "No Boss. Whatever you say goes. That's why we had to kill that ex-cop. To keep your options open."

Petey adds, "And we were careful. We followed all of Dr. Dan's advice: 'The police have a limited number of tools. Take those tools out of their hands, and the only way they can catch you is by dumb luck'."

Pete says, "The van has already been through the crusher at the auto salvage yard, the plates were phonies and the shotgun is at the bottom of the river."

"And the camera?" Teddy asks.

"Also in the river, but we printed out the photos in case you wanted to see them." Petey replies as he hands over a short stack of pictures.

Teddy quickly goes through the pictures. "Joan and Dr. Dan's daughter? What the hell is going on, and why was she at Dr. Dan's office yesterday?"

Petey says, "Easy Boss, the Girardi girl isn't a threat to us."

"Ryan Hunter probably said the same thing just before Joan showed up with the cops, and he had to blow up the Herald building with himself in it."

Pete asks, "Should we postpone the hit in case the Girardi girl is on to us?"

Teddy shakes his head. "It's too late. All of our guys are in position, waiting to strike as soon as the old man is dead. Be on the roof of Dr. Dan's office building before noon as planned. As for Joan, I plan to take care of her personally..."

X X X X X

At that same early morning hour, Joan exits the Girardi home and slowly walks toward her Jeep. Waiting at the curb is her tutor-angel, his six wings tightly folded. (This was another way he is dismissive of Joan. He knows she wants to see if he has eyes on the inside of his wings, so he always denies her a look.) Joan cranes her neck up to talk with him. Anyone watching would think she was talking to the top of a tree.

"Hey, did you forget to set your alarm? You didn't wake me for my morning training session."

The angel shrugs. "I saw no point since this will probably be your last day on earth."

"Oh, so you're here to give me an early morning pep talk. Why do you have to be so mean?"

"Why do you have to be so disrespectful and disobedient of He who is the creator of all? He who knows all from begining to end and supplies all that is lacking. He who..."

"Can we shorten this and just say 'God'?"

"You...have been given an honor and a priviledge only a handful of humans have enjoyed. How do you respond? You argue, complain and openly defy His will."

"If you mean that business about 'reading' all people at all times, that's under negotiation..."

"YOU DARE?"

Joan staggers back a few paces due to the outraged spiritual energy flowing over her. She refuses to be intimidated.

"But doesn't the word say: 'Come, let us reason together'?"

To her surprise, her tutor-angel chuckles. "Foolish girl, true reasoning leads you to agreement with God for He is never wrong."

"So...is that why you have such a problem with me? You think of me as unworthy, but since God says otherwise, you know it must be true."

"Yes, and I diligently look for that worthiness, but to no avail. You confuse me Joan, and I don't like being confused."

"Is that why youre so hard on me? You're trying to raise me up to the level of God's expectations?"

"It no longer matters. The odds of you surviving this day are so small..."

"Have faith, big guy. I'm not dead yet. But, if you have any advice...?"

"Against a wrath demon possessed leader of a gang of criminals? Don't be passive. Attack first, and you may manage to take a few of them down with you before dying."

Her tutor-angel begins walking away, pauses and briefly looks back... "Good luck, Girl-warrior."

Joan watches him continue on while thinking fast. Yes, attack first. She will need access to police files through her Dad's computer, and then she must change into battle gear...

X X X X X

Later that morning, around 11:30, Dr. Hunter rings the bell to the Girardi home. (His morning meeting with Dr. Radovitch had been tense as both men seemed very distracted. Dr. Dan was relieved when John excused himself with the claim of a migraine.) Dr. Hunter is surprised when Grace, still in her wheelchair, opens the door...

"What's up, Doc?" Grace says with a grin.

"Hello Grace, are you here alone?"

"Mama Girardi had to deliver her latest portrait--a birthday gift for some banker who is turning 60. She doesn't like leaving me alone, but it is only for a short time, and I always have my cell with me." Grace replies as she waves John in.

"Perhaps this is a blessing. I have some student I.D.'s I want you to look at, and it would be awkward if we were caught at this." Dr. Hunter says as he ponders the many secrets he has to keep for Grace, Helen, Joan and himself. It would be so much easier if he had permission to tell others what he knew, but ethics required his silence.

Grace leads John into the den, and he spreads the pictures out on the desk. Grace carefully looks at all of the photos and picks out four of them.

"All the rest of these photos are the other guys I saw Teddy meeting with. Of these others, the three on the left I've never seen in real life or during my travels. The one guy on the right is the one with the rifle, and the one I saw on the roof of the tall building downtown."

John examines the I.D. copy. "Peter Zeidler. He'd be...22 now. Gavin Price had him, and his younger cousin by the same name, listed as Teddy's lieutenants in the drug trade he could never prove."

"Price figured this out?"

"His research is how I found all of these suspects. I think it is clear what God is showing us through your astral travels, Grace."

"That Teddy marks has moved way beyond being a high school dealer, and he's planning to assasinate someone by using this Zeidler guy as the hit man." Grace says, shaking her head in disbelief at this situation.

"It's unfortunate we don't have more details to act on, but we have to warn the police of what Teddy and Dr. Radovitch are up to."

"Radovitch? You mean Joan's old shrink, Dr. Dan? What has he got to do with this?"

Oops, a crossover secret. "Uh, when I researched Teddy and his gang, I noticed they were all former patients of 'Dr. Dan'. After their treatment by him, all of those young men moved on to be professional criminals--at least according to Price. I think Dr. Dan may serve as some sort of consultant to Teddy's gang."

"Well, there's no charge for what you think. Doc, you realize if we go to the cops with this tale, they'll think I'm crazy. I'll be put in a rubber room."

"And a jail cell for me. I didn't get this information in a strictly legal way. But, we need to find a way to convincingly inform the police of this while remaining anonymous."

Grace smiles. "So that's why... Doc, I slept late this morning and had one of my 'sent' astral trips. I ended up here and watched Joan log on to her dad's home computer. I don't know why, but Joan was looking through some police files. Before I could see which ones, I was yanked back to my body. I wonder why Joan was doing that?"

"Well...Joan is taking criminology as part of her pre-law degree studies. Maybe Will is helping her by allowing her to review some old case files. But this is perfect. We can send our information to the cop's anti-gang division, and it will look like it came directly from the chief of police. That is, if you remember the password?"

"Sure. It was Joan's initials and year of birth: 'JAG 1987'. But will what we've got be enough to prevent the killing?"

Dr. Hunter sighs. "Probably not, but it will give the subsequent investigation a huge head start for Will..."

X X X X X

At 11:45 Will Girardi steps off the elevator at the top floor of the Hulman building, and heads for Dr. Dan's office. Will remembers from when he use to take Joan here, Dr. Dan always leaves for lunch at exactly noon. He figures this will be the perfect chance for a private conversation with Dr. Dan--starting with the question, why did he think Joan was gay?

At the door of the office, he finds an unexpected notice posted: 'The offices of Dr. Daniel Radovitch will be closing at the end of the month. No new patients are being accepted, and all existing patients are urged to contact this office to arrange the transfer of their records to another therapist. Dr. Dan thanks all of his patients for the opportunity to serve them, and hopes you wish him well as he assumes the post of District Psychiatrist for the county school system'.

Will shakes his head at this missed opportunity, and for his inattention to current events. He knew John Hunter was in town to help the new head shrink take over his old post, but he had never thought to ask who was that replacement. But since he no longer has any kids in the public schools, and Helen has stopped teaching, he has lost interest.

So, what to do? According to the new schedule posted on the door, Dr. Dan won't be back to this office until after four. Will thinks about going directly to the school administration building, but Dr. dan will have left for lunch before he can get there. Will's stomach rumbles, and he decides lunch sounds like a good idea. After lunch he will track down Dr. Dan for a face to face confrontation about Joan. Will returns to the elevators, and even though he is on the top floor, and number five elevator has an out of order sign on it, one of the doors dings within a minute. As Will gets on board, he looks forward to a nice lunch at one of the several restaurants across the street...

X X X X X

Meanwhile, on the roof just above, Pete Zeidler is setting up his sniper's post. His weapon of choice is a bolt action fifty caliber rifle with a telescopic sight and a laser guide. The rifle, five and a half feet long and weighing 35 pounds, is an awesome and outrageously expensive weapon. But, it is necessary for the task at hand. The fifty caliber is the most powerful and longest range rifle in the world, and the only one that can make the nearly impossible shot from the rooftop through the front window of Perrin's restaurant across the street. For ten years, Pete's target has sat down at the front table every Wednesday at noon. Bodyguards always watched the place carefully, but no one has ever considered the roof across the street a risk. The great distance and steep angle made it an impossible shot. Unless, you had the world's best rifle and one of the world's greatest marksman.

Pete Zeidler smiles as he sets up the bi-pod that steadies the weapon. Even though he was dishonorably discharged from the army (by a method suggested by Dr. Dan), Pete got what he had sought from his brief time in the service. Trained to be one of the best snipers in the world, Pete is one of only a handful of men not on the battlefield who can make this shot.

Pete zeroes in on his target's usual chair, ready to wait the last few minutes before the man showed up. Oh crap, some young woman is sitting in that chair with her back to him. What the hell is going on? No one is ever allowed to sit at that reserved table and at that particular chair. Who is that?

X X X X X

Cooper Jones, manager of Perrin's, nervously watches the front door for the expected arrival of his most loyal, and demanding customer. Perrin's is an old and very expensive eatery that caters to the city's power elite. But none of the city's wheeler-dealers commanded the respect, and fear that this regular patron did. He always has table one, and the house's Wednesday specialty, which he eats alone. Jones looks at the reserved chair by the front window and groans. A lovely young woman is sittting there, insisting she is an expected guest. Normally he never would risk such a situation, but how cvan he ask her to leave? After all, she is the town's hero, and the daughter of the chief of police...

TBC. Please review.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Joan Girardi sits at the front window table of Perrin's restaurant feeling very uncomfortable. Women rarely ventured into the old-boy's-network atmosphere of the place, and in fact, Joan is the only female there. Every man in the place from busboys to middle-aged executives are casting frequent, desire filled glances at her. This isn't just due to the fact that she is an attractive young woman, or due to her rather slutty outfit (a tiny miniskirt, a plunging neckline and her pushiest push-up bra). These factors help, but Joan's irresistible allure is due to her projection of `sexual charisma'.

Ryan often used this skill. Even though he was rich, charming and handsome, it was sexual charisma that allowed him to control even the most intelligent, sophisticated woman. Taught to her by her tutor-angel in a know-your-enemy type lesson, sexual charisma was an ability used only by the other side. Until now.

When she first entered the restaurant, Joan enjoyed the experience of having so much male attention, but by reading the crowd, Joan realizes the rapidly rising level of arousal around her. Joan considers the need she has to use sexual charisma on the man she is waiting for, because he isn't known for being loose-lipped, but the creepiness of the situation is becoming too much. Of course, Ryan chooses this moment to add his two cents…

(Enjoy it Joan. Absorb the sensations and suck up the power. Pick anyone of these men, promise him your love, and he will do anything for you—lie, cheat steal, even kill. That much control over another makes you feel like a god…)

Joan slams her fist on to the old oak table—using the pain to distract her from Ryan's words. He is playing with her, using her greatest fear against her—that someday temptation will lead her down his dark path…

A fortyish man in an expensive suit enters and gives the restaurant a once over. He hesitates when he sees Joan, and calls over Cooper Jones, the manager. After a brief, whispered conversation, the man shrugs and exits the restaurant. Joan watches a mirror on the opposite wall and observes the action outside the restaurant. The inside man reports to the head bodyguard of the security detail outside, who then consults with someone in a limousine with darkened windows. Moments later, Lou Marks (Teddy's father) exits the limo, and flanked by his security team, enters Perrin's.

Lou waits by the door while the inside man comes to the reserved table and scans the area with some electronic gizmo. He scans Joan too. Lou sits in the chair opposite Joan and waits for his man's report.

"Something in her purse."

"A cell phone?" Lou asks of Joan.

"Yes."

"Let Frank hang on to it while we talk."

Joan hands it over to `Frank', who goes to a single table on one side of the restaurant, while another guard takes a similar table on the opposite side.

Lou smiles and asks, "Joan, why are we meeting?"

X X X X X

Across the street, on the roof of the tall Hulman building, Pete Zeidler watches Perrin's front window through the scope of his fifty caliber sniper rifle. He saw how Marks entered with his small crowd of guards, whom he could have easily shot through. But of course, he didn't try for a shot. At this range and angle, a hit is nearly impossible, and hitting a briefly appearing, moving target was beyond anyone's ability. The plan was to shoot Lou while he was stationary at his usual spot, but the dratted girl is sitting there. If she moves, he still might be able to hit Lou, but the extra three foot distance into the restaurant interior made this far more difficult. He could no longer get Lou in the chest, but he might manage to hit his lower abdomen. With the massive power of this rifle, that could be enough to cause a fatal wound. If only she would move…

Meanwhile…Will Girardi has reached the ground floor lobby of the Hulman building. As he steps off the elevator, he has the misfortune to run into city councilman, Harry Svok. Svok, known for his effusive nature and long-windedness, greets Will like a long lost brother. Immediately, the councilman launches into a discussion about the upcoming budget proposal for the police department. Will feels an obligation to be polite to the man. After all, he was one of the ones who voted to retain Will in his office when Ryan tried to have him ousted as police chief. Besides, the budget proposal is important. Will braces himself for a long, long conversation…

X X X X X

Lou Marks stares at Joan, admiring her long, shapely legs and impressive cleavage. He was always aware that Joan is an attractive girl, but when did she become so amazingly hot? Lou tries to remind himself that he loves his wife, but he knows if Joan gives him the nod, he is ready to make a total fool of himself over her.

"Aww Lou, do I need a reason to reconnect with an old friend?"

"Are we friends, Joan? We've done some business in the past, but it was never…personal. The last time was months ago when I acquired that pricey piece of equipment you needed. What ever happened with that?"

"It's sitting in a storage unit. I guess I ought to list it on ebay: 'Electro Magnetic Pulse Generator, used only once'. Then again, you never know when something like that might come in handy." Joan replies with a grin.

`Damn she's hot.' Lou thinks while asking, "Seriously, what brings you here, Joan? And how did you know how to find me?"

"That part was easy. You've been followed by the cops and the feds so often, all of your regular habits are listed in your police intelligence file."

"You've read my file?"

"Yeah, but shhh. I'm trying to keep that from my Dad. He's got this silly idea I shouldn't stick my nose into police business."

"And an adorable nose it is." Lou says and then winces. (Did he really just say that? He should be ashamed of himself. Joan is young enough to be his daughter.) "So, what can Lou Marks, alleged gangster, do for the police chief's daughter?"

"Persuade your son not to murder me."

Lou hesitates. "Why…would Teddy be after you?"

"I ran into him yesterday at Dr. Dan's office. Our meeting seemed to trigger a long standing grudge he's had against me for outing him to you."

"Oh that. Yeah, that was awkward, but we worked it out. As long as Teddy remains discreet about his lifestyle, I don't interfere with what he does."

"By discreet, you mean keeping it secret from your men that he's gay."

"As you once pointed out, Joan, the wise guy community isn't accepting of alternative lifestyles."

"Even these days? Why would it matter if they knew?"

"It would weaken my position as gang boss. Some of my guys wouldn't be bothered, but a lot of them just won't accept it."

"How does that affect you?"

"Because they're counting on Teddy taking over for me someday. That stifles any ambitions from my lieutenants."

"I thought you once told me you wanted Teddy to live a legit life."

"I do, and I plan to make sure he isn't forced into the business—unlike me. I never wanted this life, but I had no choice. My old man insisted."

"Couldn't you have said 'No'?"

Lou snorts with laughter. "Nobody could say 'No' to Adolphus Marks. My old man was seriously scary. I tried reasoning with him, but he said no son of his was going to be…"

"A what?"

"You'll laugh."

"At Lou Marks? I may be young and naïve, but I'm not stupid."

Lou grins, satisfied with the response. "I wanted to be a veterinarian. I always loved animals. But my old man wouldn't allow it. Besides, it was hard to resist the tug of tradition."

"What does that mean?"

"Well…you see Frank over there?"

"The one with my cell phone."

"He's been working for me for 20 years. Before that, his father worked for my father. His grandfather worked for my grandfather. And before that, his great-grandfather…"

"Got it. He worked for your great-grandfather."

"Yeah, that takes you back all the way to the 19th century, and Franz Marks, the founder of the wolf-head gang."

"The what?"

"Gangs in those days were mobs of young men who ruled neighborhoods like kingdoms. They would do open battle in the streets against their rivals, and they all carried a gang symbol on a pole—like a battle flag you would rally around, In New York, there was a gang called the Dead Rabbit gang. They were so numerous, they could descend on a neighborhood, wipe out their enemies and loot the place bare. The police were too scared to interfere. They were so untouchable, they use to openly advertise their rates for murder."

"And the wolf-heads were like that?"

"In the early days, yes, but Franz realized the public wouldn't put up with that forever. He changed with the times and got the gang involved with the traditional mob businesses like gambling, whore houses and the protection racket. At one time, half of the small businesses in Arcadia had a brass wolf-head plaque above their front doors. It told the world they were ours, and all petty thieves and crooked cops kept their hands off."

"I've seen a few of those wolf-heads on old buildings. I never knew what they meant."

"They're collector's items now since we are no longer in that line. Some places consider them good luck charms."

"Some luck. Most of those places were driven out of business a long time ago."

"Hey, that wasn't us. Blame all of the national chains for that."

"So why aren't you guys still called the wolf-head gang?"

"A couple of reasons. Around the turn of the 20th century, Franz began a campaign to unite all the city's gangs under his leadership in order to fight a common foe. The German, Irish, Jewish and what they used to call the `Colored' gangs, all followed Franz in opposing what seemed an unstoppable menace."

"Who?"

Lou chuckles. "The Italians, of course. Back then, the Black Hand, later known as the Mafia, were moving into all of the east coast cities. But thanks to my great-grandfather, the Italians never got a toe-hold in Arcadia. Franz died just after World War One, and my grandfather took over. He had a multi-ethnic gang that was only partly 'wolf-head'. Besides, all of that nonsense about meeting in the woods under a wolf-head's pole for loyalty oaths seemed too old fashioned for the Roarin' Twenties. Now that's when the gang got really big and rich, thanks to Prohibition."

Joan nods. "Growing up, my Dad would never let us miss a rerun of the old 'Untouchables' TV show--Elliot Ness going after Al Capone and Frank Nitti."

"My grandfather knew both of those guys. They didn't like each other, but they managed to occasionally do business. Years later, my old man took over the gang, but times had changed. With legalized gambling, and every girl over the age of 16 giving it away for free, the traditional revenue sources dried up."

"So you turned to drugs?"

"Adapt or die. For awhile, the gang made tons of money selling cocaine and heroin, but those profits attracted a lot of new competitors who had no respect for our established control of this city. One of those new gangs murdered my Dad 25 years ago, and even though I was only 19, the wolf-heads picked me for leader."

"And you've managed to survive all of these years."

"Only by adapting. When i took over, we wiped out the scum that killed Adolphus, but I clearly saw we would be at war forever if we stayed in the hard drug business. So I negotiated a deal with the new gangs. They could have the hard drug trade--cocaine, heroin, crack and meth, while we took over recreational drugs."

"Marijuana and an assortment of 'happy pills'? It doesn;t sound all that profitable."

Lou Marks shrugs. "We make a comfortable living and have reasonably safe lives. Meanwhile, the various ethnic gangs--Russians, Mexicans, Jamacians, Colombians, Chinese and so on, slaughter each other trying to gain territory and extra profit. The cops and feds concentrate almost solely on them, and those young punks are usually dead or behind bars before they hit 30. But, the old wolf-head gang just keeps cruising along."

"And Teddy knows about this family heritage?"

"Yeah, he was obsessed with it as a kid. He couldn't get enough of the legends about the old wolf-head gang. I guess that's why he started up his little drug business at Arcadia High. Turns out, several of my guys knew what was going on, but they just assumed I was training Teddy for the future. Joan, if Teddy really is pissed at you, it's probably because I shut down his drug business after you told me about it. Don't worry, I'll have a talk with the boy and make sure he leaves you alone..."

X X X X X

On the rooftop across the street, Pete Zeidler is distracted by a ringing cell phone. Every morning Teddy and his men started the day with new disposable phones that were bought out of town by a flunky. Cell phone records were one of those tools Dr. Dan told them to take out of the hands of the police.

Pete answers, "Boss?"

Teddy Marks shouts through the phone, "What's the delay? I expected to hear from you by now."

"Sorry Boss, but we have a problem. Your dad isn't in his usual chair. Some girl is in his place and is talking to your old man."

"A girl? Who is it?"

"Beats me. She has her back to me, but she's dressed like a hooker."

"Does she have long brown hair?"

"Yeah, with a few gold streaks."

"It's Joan Girardi! Damn it, she must be on to us. Take the shot. Kill her."

"But Boss, what about Lou?"

"Uh...you told me that fancy rifle of yours can punch through steel plate. Surely a fifty caliber bullet can go through two bodies."

"Yeah, it can go through twenty bodies, but the problem is trajectory. Every time the bullet goes through something, it slightly affects the trajectory. After the window, the bullet will rip the girl in half, and go through the table. It might hit Lou's lower body, but a one percent variance will cause a miss."

"Are you saying it's impossible?"

"No, but the odds of getting both are really long. If I miss Lou, I won't have time for a second shot before he moves deeper into the restaurant and is completely out of sight. If we wait, the girl will eventually move, and I can get your dad. Isn't he the more important target?"

Teddy snarls, "No. My gut instinct tells me Joan is going to ruin everything if we don't act now. Take the shot!"

"You got it, Boss."

Pete puts aside the cell phone, lights up his laser guide and centers his scope on Joan's back...

Meanwhile...directly below the rifle's barrel, Will Girardi finally steps out of the Hulman building and takes a deep breath of fresh air. Blasted politicians seemed to suck all the air out of any room. Will checks his watch wondering if he still has time for lunch. Maybe just a quick sandwich to go. There are several restaurants across the street, but Will hesitates when he sees the mob bodyguards lingering in front of Perrin's.

Oh yeah, Lou marks ate there every Wednesday. Will doesn't want to get distracted by him. He will go a few doors down to... Hey, isn't that Joan's Jeep parked a short way down the block? Will groans at the thought that his daughter may once again be meeting with a known gangster. First the Radovitch girl, and now this? His daughter will be the death of him yet...

X X X X X

Back at the restaurant...

"So tell me Lou, if you're leading a life of such banal criminality, why the extra security? You never use to have so many guards,"

"Another gang is trying to move in on our business. We don't know who yet--they're keeping below the radar. Eventually, they'll have to come out in the open and make a move against us. I'm the logical first target."

The final piece clicks into place for Joan. Teddy is going to murder his own father in order to take over the family business. Most of the gang, despite lou's opinion of their homophobia, will follow over a century's worth of tradition and make Teddy the new gang leader. Joan shudders at the thought of what a demon possessed Teddy would do with an organization like the wolf-head gang. She has to warn Lou...

Joan spots the red dot on the window by the mirror opposite her. Without hesitation, Joan launches herself across the table, her improved physique and reflexes paying off. Joan slams into Lou, tipping him and his chair over...

The window shatters.

The bullet splits the table in half.

Joan is wounded.

Lou and Joan slam into the floor as the booming sound of the fifty caliber rifle reaches them. While people begin shouting and reacting, Lou's security team rushes to him. Lou feels something wet on his right hand. He looks and sees it is blood. Her blood...

X X X X X

Outside, Lou's other bodyguards are waving their guns around, unsure of where the shot came from. Will, more experienced with the acoustics of gunshots, looks straight up. Even at this distance, he can see the barrel of a large rifle protruding from the edge of the roof. Will hesitates. He thinks Joan might be in Perrin's, and his fatherly instinct urges him to check on the safety of his child, but he knows for certain there is a nut with a rifle nearby, and he is the only police officer on the scene. The lives of the hundreds of people within range of that rifle are his responsibility.

Will turns and runs back into the Hulman building's lobby. He shifts his badge to the front of his jacket for greater visibility, and pulls his gun...

"Police Officer! Everybody get back. Clear this lobby!"

The crowd reacts with remarkable calm as they obey Will's instructions. Apparently all of those anti-terrorism drills were paying off. As the lobby empties of civilians, Will checks the elevators. Sure enough, #5--the one with the out of order sign--is now headed for the lobby. Will watches closely as the numbers indicate the elevator's descent. He braces himself for when the doors open...but wait, it stops on the second floor and remains there. Damn, of course the shooter isn't going to stroll through a lobby with a potential crowd of witnesses. He must be taking the stairs from the second floor to the emergency rear exit.

Will runs for the emergency stairs, opens the door to the stairwell and spots a tough young guy with his hand already on the bump bar of the emergency exit. Will points his gun at the punk's back and shouts...

"Police! Freeze!"

But Pete Zeidler isn't the `freeze' type. Arrogantly confident, and a master with firearms, Pete drops to the left while spinning around and drawing a hammerless revolver in the same split second. Far faster than it takes to describe, Pete already has Will's chest in his sights. This blink-of-the-eye feat can only be accomplished by someone as young and skilled as Pete.

The shot rings out...

TBC. Please review.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

In the ground floor stairwell of the Hulman building, the acrid smell of gunsmoke fills the air as the echo of a single gunshot fades. Will Girardi stares at the growing bloodstain on the chest of the young hoodlum he just shot. Stupid, stupid kid—he had the drop on him! Why did he try to shoot his way out? Will cautiously bends down and recovers the .38 caliber revolver from the wounded man's hand. At least he is still breathing, if only barely.

Will realizes his job isn't done yet. This guy was part of a well-planned attempt to murder gangster Lou Marks, and he wouldn't have left his escape to chance. Will uses the emergency exit, which sets off the alarm. That's okay—building security, cops and ambulances were no doubt already on the way. Outside, Will doesn't have to look hard to find the getaway car. Another young punk sits in a nearby Chevy, totally absorbed in a handheld video game…

Petey Zeidler, a young man who gets easily bored, waits for the return of his cousin Pete from his sniper attack on Lou Marks. They still have a lot to do, and he wants to get on with their day. As the radio blares out one of Petey's favorite tunes, he shouts in triumph as he reaches his highest level ever… A rap on the window interrupts Petey's celebration. He turns his head and sees a police badge with a gun next to it. Petey hits `SAVE', throws up his hands in surrender and pees himself.

X X X X X

Lou Marks stares in horror at Joan's blood on his hand. Lou is all too familiar with sudden violence and blood, but this time it is different. Somehow Joan realized the moment of danger, and instead of ducking to the side to save herself, she dove on top of him to save his life. It happened too fast to be thought through. No, this lovely young girl risked herself out of her true nature just to save him. That is why he is alive. She has shed her blood to save a miserable old crook like him. Lou has never felt so disgusted with himself.

"Joan…?"

Joan Girardi moans in pain. "I'm…hit?"

Lou looks and sees the steady trickle of blood coming from under her miniskirt. Lou solemnly nods.

"Yeah kid, but take it easy. Help is on the way."

Lou looks over and sees his man Frank calling for an ambulance. Ironically, he is using Joan's own phone.

"How bad…?" Joan gasps. Oh God, it hurt so much.

"I'll have to take a look."

Joan nods her agreement. What a day to choose to wear a tiny pink thong… Lou slowly, gently lifts the hem of the miniskirt while saying a quick prayer. Even if the wound isn't fatal, the risk of paralysis was high. Joan waits for the verdict, wishing Lou would go faster. Even if she is dying, she doesn't want the whole world staring at her butt. Lou Marks chuckles.

Joan groans, "Something…funny?"

Lou replies, "Joan, if this were a movie, my line would be: `It's only a flesh wound'."

"But the bullet?"

"You weren't hit by the bullet."

Joan looks back and sees her wound—a jagged wooden splinter the size of her little finger is protruding from her left buttock. Painful, but not life threatening. Joan breathes a sigh of relief as Frank approaches…

"Boss, an ambulance is on the way, and we have two cars waiting in the back."

"In a minute, Frank. Joan, how can I thank you?"

"Lou, wait. It was Teddy…"

"I know, Joan. When I first heard about the new gang moving in on us, I suspected Teddy. I just didn't want to believe my own son could…do this. Teddy was always a troubled kid, but the last couple of years he's gotten strange and mean."

"What will you do?"

"That's my business. I have to go now, but is there anything I can do for you, Joan?"

"Keep my name out of this?"

Lou responds by gently picking up Joan, and holding her in his arms, he addresses the distraught staff and customers…

"Listen up! This girl was never here, understand? Anyone who mentions her will personally answer to Lou Marks!" (Lou hands Joan over to Frank.) "Use our doctor. Keep it quiet."

"You got it, Boss."

X X X X X

9-7-06/Thursday night.

Late the next evening, Joan rests on a patio lounger—with the aid of an air doughnut. She stares up at the sky, seemingly contemplative as she holds a beautiful silver cross about seven inches long. But in reality, Joan is now fully using her ability of spiritual discernment, and is taking a `read' on the immediate neighborhood. People are busy being people, blissfully unaware of the constant spiritual struggle going on around them. Out in the darkness, a wide variety of demonic creatures scurry about, ratlike, as they seek those they can influence or occupy. Angels are out there too, carrying out God's will on the spiritual level, but her own tutor-angel is nowhere near.

Joan's family is safely indoors. Grace is sleeping in her room while her parents are in the living room, cuddling as they watch TV. Those two—they were being really lovey-dovey this week, which was kind of sweet, but still…eww.

The news of Joan's injury caused a brief stir of excitement; however, when everyone was assured she would quickly recover, Joan became the `butt' of a lot of jokes. As for her cover story, she was running various errands downtown when she took a shortcut through an alley, tripped over some debris and landed on a jagged piece of wood. A good Samaritan came by, drove her to a clinic where she was treated for splinter removal and released. (The last part was almost true. Joan expected Frank would drive her to some sleazy warehouse or tavern backroom where she would be treated by an alcoholic ex-doctor who had lost his license. She really watches too many movies. Instead, she was taken to a modern clinic in nearby suburban Marston where a very handsome young doctor was standing by to perform the outpatient surgery. Patient `Agnes Brodie' was in and out in under an hour, her bill paid in cash.)

Will was too distracted by ongoing events to question Joan's story. The young man Will shot-Pete-survived surgery, and was expected to recover. The younger cousin, Petey, turned out to be a major blabbermouth who spilled all he knew about Bob Crowley's death (wisely leaving out any mention of the police chief's daughter), and the attempted murder of Lou Marks. He also ratted out Dr. Dan's years long involvement in the shaping and training of Teddy's gang.

Unfortunately, when the police went to question Dr. Dan, he had already fled the country. He abandoned his wife and daughter without a word of warning, but did remember to stop at his bank to pick up the contents of his safety deposit box.

Most of the remaining members of Teddy's gang either fled the city or were rounded up by the cops. Only a few were found dead—killed gangland style. The ease of arresting so many of Teddy's gang was due to detailed information sent to the anti-gang squad by way of the police chief's computer. Members of the force just assumed Will was way ahead of the curve on this case. But Will grumbled long and loud about Joan's involvement in yet another police matter. Joan took the rebuke in stride…

"Dad, you've known for a long time I do these things. I just have a knack for finding stuff out, and wouldn't it be wrong of me not to let the cops in on what I know? So please, since I've managed to keep my name out of this, can't you just go along? Do you want me to have to endure another publicity blitz?"

Will wavered, seeing that his little girl was in pain, and besides, somehow she had once again been a big help. Plus, any major publicity might drag in the mess with Susan Radovitch, Dr. Dan and Bob Crowley's last case. This family definitely didn't need to endure that, but one of these days, he was going to get to the bottom of Joan's `knack' for finding things out.

Joan, now staring at the big dipper, was glad to take the heat for Dr. Hunter, who apologized profusely for ever doubting her, and for having to use her Dad's computer that way. His hasty departure for home prevented Joan from asking about details, like how he knew the password, but she understood his desire to return to his normal life.

That left one unfinished detail—Teddy Marks. The wannabe gang leader is still at large, and the cops assume he has left town. Joan knows better. Driven by his wrath demon, which recognizes her connection to God, Teddy will be unable to resist the urge to kill her, no matter what the risk. That is why Joan is outside tonight, playing the part of the tethered goat while waiting for the viscous tiger. Yes, she can feel a presence out there in the dark—the hunter.

Teddy Marks makes no sound as he creeps into the Girardi backyard. There is his target, and the only thing he wants more than her death is to see fear in Joan's eyes just before he pulls the trigger…

"Hello Teddy, I've been waiting for you." Joan calmly says.

"Liar. If you knew I was coming, you would have had the cops waiting or would be armed."

"I am armed, Teddy. See?" (Joan holds up the silver cross.) "Isn't it beautiful? It's a personal gift from God. I suppose, if I were Jewish, it would be a Star of David."

Joan watches Teddy's face and sees what shreds of sanity might have been left are gone.

"That...that can't hurt me! I'm gonna kill you Joan, understand? I'm gonna kill you..."

"No Teddy, you're not."

Sensing the moment has arrived, Joan turns her head away, not wanting to see this. The shot comes, but a silencer makes it barely noticeable. Teddy falls, and Joan senses the `hunter' retreating into the darkness. Joan moves quickly as Teddy begins bleeding out the last moments of his life. (Damn, blood on the patio bricks--impossible to get out. Dad will be pissed.)

Gunshots rarely killed instantly, but Teddy's final breath is only seconds away. Those few seconds are prescious to Joan, because he must be alive when she deals with the demon. Joan knows full possession represents a surrendering of a person's free will to the demon, and you must have that host's agreement before removing the foul thing. Otherwise, the demon is free to return to his host, and to bring more demons with it. But, the demon is contracturally obligated to stay with the host until death. (The spirit world is amazingly legalistic.) Joan places her silver cross on Teddy's chest while the wrath demon desperately squirms...

"Foul creature, by the power of Almighty God, I command you to hell, never to return!"

The demon howls in dismay as it rises out of Teddy, and then is sucked down below. For a brief instant, Teddy Marks smiles, and then he is gone. Goodbye Teddy, and goodbye demon--you have no host to return to, and now you're trapped in hell where you belong.

Joan sees she has blood on her hands, and acknowledges that is true in more ways than one. This morning she had Friedman send an untraceable e-mail to Lou Marks: 'Pink thong girl, on her patio tonight'. Apparently, Lou knew his son all too well.

X X X X X

9-8-06/Friday night.

"One more push, Grace. You can do it my darling." Luke encouragingly says while holding his wife's hand. (Inside he is devastated by the ordeal of Grace's ten hours of labor. At least he caught the first flight home this morning, and was here when Grace's water broke.)

"He's right Grace, the head is crowning. One more big push will do." Grace's doctor says with her practiced, encouraging tone.

Grace, sweaty and exhausted, takes a deep breath and makes the supreme effort. While straining with all of her might, Grace curses under her breath at her own stupidity for insisting on a natural birth. Next time, if there was a next time, drugs. Lots of drugs. A moment later, the whole room reacts with relief and joy...

"It's a girl!" the doctor automatically announces, even though the sex has been known for months.

Across the room, Luke and Grace's families celebrate with hugs and kisses and prayers of thanks to God (at least by some). As the rejoicing continues, the matters of afterbirth and the cleaning of the infant take place. Joan is moved and impressed by the miracle of birth, but even so, all of those gooey fluids were gross. Joan makes a mental note to delay this experience by a few years or more. Meanwhile, the baby is now ready for the transfer from the medical staff to her family. A beaming Luke Girardi accepts his tiny daughter into his arms.

"Family, allow me to introduce for the very first time, Anne Sarah Girardi." Luke dramatically proclaims before placing Anne into Grace's arms.

As endless pictures are taken of this event, Grace stares adoringly at her beautiful little girl, and feels a mix of awe, joy and gratitude... ('Thank you God. Thank you for all you have done for me. I'm out of the coma, I'm mending, and now I have Annie. I finally get why they are called bundles of joy. But God, I need to concentrate on being a mother now. So please, no more travels, at least for awhile. Especially after what I saw last night...')

Last night, Grace briefly left her body and floated through the wall of her bedroom. Down below she saw Joan talking to an armed Teddy Marks. She was too far away to clearly hear what they were saying, but Grace saw Joan turn her head away just before the shot that killed Teddy. It was almost as if she knew it was coming. Then Joan did something strange. She placed that shiny cross of hers on to Teddy, spoke something that had the tone of an order, and then Teddy died with a slight grin on his face. Was this some bizarre Catholic ritual she didn't know about? Since she was going to be a member of this family, she needed to learn about such things. What Grace didn't want to know is why what she saw didn't match Joan's account of what happened.

The doctor addresses the room... "Family, at this time we usually ask for privacy so that the new mom and dad can have some private bonding time with their child."

It was a very polite way of saying, 'Get out'. Joan, Will & Helen, Aaron & Sarah Polonsky and the Rabbi's parents quickly exit the delivery center, and breathe sighs of relief over all having gone so well. Joan notes the smiling faces of Mr. & Mrs Polk, whom she hasn't seen since Grace's bat mitzvah. Unlike her Grandpa Marcus, who could star in TV ads for active seniors, the Polks were old-old in that frail, near-the-end sort of way. But tonight they are as happy and energetic as children.

"Would anyone like a cigar?" Mr. Polk says as he holds out four thick stogies with expensive bands on them.

Rabbi Polonsky tsks. "Papa, people don't celebrate like that any more."

Will steps forward to accept one of the cigars, but Helen simply says: "Will." He hesitates and then steps back. Like everyone else, he heard in Helen's tone: "Don't you dare." Joan reaches out and takes a cigar.

"Thank you Mr. Polk, I'll try one."

Helen protests, "Joan, you don't smoke."

"It's a celebration, Mom. Just this one time."

Helen sighs. "Very well, but take it outside."

"Duh. I know you can't smoke in a hospital."

As Joan walks away, everyone pulls out cell phones and begin reaching out to far flung family members with the good news. Joan contemplates the topsy-turvy feelings she has at this moment. It was so weird hearing Luke described as a dad. All of their lives seemed to be taking dramatic new turns. As Joan reaches the atrium, she wonders if she has taken a turn on to the path to hell. Well, the one who can answer that is waiting in the atrium. Joan approaches Nigerian Doctor God and sits on a bench opposite him.

Joan winces as she shifts her weight to rest solely on her right buttock. Doctor God reaches out and takes the cigar from Joan. She expects a rebuke on smoking, but instead he removes from his pocket a cigar cutter and a lighter. Doctor God clips off the end of the cigar, lights it and takes a few puffs. He then blows three perfect smoke rings. It isn't the first time Joan has seen God smoke, but it always disturbs her. Smiling, Doctor God hands the cigar back.

"Remember Joan, moderation in all things."

Joan nods, lifts the cigar toward her mouth and then hesitates. She smiles at her foolishness. What was she afraid of--catching God's germs? Joan takes a couple of short puffs and quickly exhales.

"How do you like it?" Doctor God asks.

"It's not as horrible as I imagined, but I doubt I'll make a habit of it."

"You'd be amazed by how many smokers began with that same statement."

"So...are you still mad at me?"

"I was never mad at you, Joan. Trust me, if I were ever truly angry with you, there would be no doubt about it."

Joan ponders that and shudders at the thought of having God mad at you.

Doctor God continues, "But I am disappointed, Joan. This assignment has not been your best work."

"Because of my disobedience about always reading people? I explained how hard that was for me."

"Which I heard and did not casually dismiss. When I ask you to do something Joan, even something hard, it is always to make things better. By disobeying, you took a step away from my will and my protection."

"How badly did I screw up?"

"Most of the assignment finished on schedule, but if you had obeyed, this assignment would have been easier, more complete and much less painful...in the end."

Joan sighs. Great, even God was making butt jokes at her expense... "What did you mean by: 'More complete'?"

"Do to your disobedience, you missed an opportunity to help someone in need."

Joan groans in dismay. At her level people's lives were ruined or even lost by her mistakes. "Is it too late to help?"

"Yes Joan, the opportunity has passed."

"Is there no way to help this person?"

"I did have a plan 'B' but that chance also fell through. Don't fret Joan, I'm not out of resources."

"Good, because I don't want two failures on my conscience."

"Two?"

"Susan Radovitch. I ruined her life."

"On the contrary Joan, you saved her. A test: What would the ripples have been if you had done nothing?"

"Well...Teddy would have killed Lou and no doubt would have blamed it on a rival gang. The wolf-heads would have followed tradition, despite Teddy's sexuality, and made him the new boss. With Dr. Dan and his two demons guiding him, Teddy would have launched a blood soaked assault on the other gangs to take their territories."

Doctor God nods. "There would have been hundreds of casualties as the masive drug war tore Arcadia apart. Any known associate of Teddy Marks, and their families, would have been in grave peril."

"Susan might have died?"

"It was the most likely scenario. But even if Susan survived, she faced another danger. Her long term exposure to demonic energy was weakening her spiritually. All humans have their weaknesses--the chinks in their armor. In time, Susan could fallen prey to a demon of her own. Now, that will not happen."

"What is going to happen to Susan?"

"She is being sent to San Franscisco to live with her natural mother--a much healthier environment for her. But don't bother trying to say goodbye. Susan won't be receptive. With the media crediting Will for the rapid round-up of Teddy's gang, and the prevention of a drug war, Susan believes your questions about her father and Gentle Acres means you were acting as a police spy."

Joan sighs again. She regrets the pain she has caused Susan, but takes solace in knowing she is better off--even if Susan is unaware of it. Joan hesitates, knowing her debriefing has come to the one topic she wishes to avoid...

"Am I still in your service?"

"Of course. Why would you think otherwise, Joan?"

"I...arranged the death of Teddy Marks. I'm guilty of murder. How can you keep someone like me amongst your agents?"

Doctor God takes Joan's hand. "Joan, listen to me. Teddy Marks' free will choices determined his fate. You may have managed the location, but the timing of his death was to the exact second that his fate decreed. Nothing you did last night had any effect on his death. But Joan, you did send that vile demon to hell, and that creature has centuries' worth of innocent blood on its' hands. Your work was...acceptable." (Joan breathes a sigh of relief.) "Rest up Joan, let your wound heal. And of course, your training sessions are canceled during this time."

As Doctor God begins to walk away, Joan says, "Wait. About my tutor..."

"You have a complaint?"

"I don't want to tell tales, especially since you always know all, but Mr. No-Name and me don't really get along. Maybe a different angel...?"

With a hard edge to his voice, Doctor God asks, "Do you think I sent you a second rate choice?"

Joan gulps. She can tell she has hit a nerve. Mental note: 'Do not criticize fellow servants of God'. But, unable to resist, Joan whines, "He's mean."

"Joan, your tutor is more than an educator. He is also a type of drill sergeant whose job is to toughen you up for the challenges ahead. Warm and fuzzy doesn't go with that job."

"Okay, but there's a difference between being tough and being insultingly dismissive."

"Oh, so it's respect you want. Okay Joan, I can order your tutor to respect you, and out of his great love for me, he would obey. Should I do that, Joan?"

"I'm...guessing this is the point where I'm suppose to say 'No'. That it's better if I earn his respect."

Doctor God smiles, "Excellent learning curve, Joan."

Joan watches as Nigerian Doctor God walks away, giving the backhand wave just before exiting the atrium. Only a couple of seconds later Joan senses the sudden appearance of a great evil. Joan carefully places her cigar on the bench, and with a heavy sigh, she turns to face...The Imitator. To a casual observer Joan is facing an identical twin of the 'man' who just left. To Joan there is no doubt to his identity.

"Beelzebub. Come to congratulate me on a job well done?"

Nigerian Doctor Devil smirks. "Yes Joan, I have--even though my counterpart neglected to say so. Well done Joan on your disobediance, on defeating one of my witless minions and on the murder of Teddy Marks."

"God said..."

"He says a lot of silly things that are usually filled with 'love' and 'forgiveness', but you and I both know you crossed a line, Joan. You'll find that becomes easier every time you do it. If you don't believe me, ask Ryan the next time he talks to you. It's how I got him over to my side. By one small compromise after another."

Doctor Devil smiles as he sees fear crossing Joan's face. It was enough for this visit. He walks away, also giving a goodbye gesture, but a much ruder one. But Joan detects a subtle change in his never ending flow of evil--a momentary flash of smug success. Joan angrily realizes she has been played. Joan removes the silver cross from her purse and calls out...

"Hey Devil, pass along a greeting to Ryan for me, because he won't be able to answer back." (The Devil avoids looking at the symbol in Joan's hand as she continues...) "Spirit of Ryan Hunter, by the power of Almighty God, I bind you into silence!"

Joan smiles as the Devil hisses his displeasure, but then he too grins... "Very good, Joan. You finally figured it out. Your fear is what allowed Ryan to 'haunt' you these last few months. After all, he is now no more than another 'evil' spirit, subject to the power of your faith. No matter. I have plenty of time to find another fear, another chink that will let me through your defenses. Until next time, Joan."

The Devil exits the atrium. Joan retrieves her cigar and takes a large puff, blowing the smoke upward in a very self-satisfied moment. She spots her tutor-angel on the roof where he has been watching her all this time. The warrior angel turns his back on Joan before spreading open his massive six wings, preparing to take off. Since he is 25 feet tall, it is always an impressive sight that Joan can't resist watching. But before flying away, he glances back and gives Joan the tiniest, briefest nod of approval...

THE END.

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